Just A Feeling
by Expressionista
Summary: Post-Apocalypse. Andrea-Danielle has always been perceptive, but would give anything to have answers. When the "little witch" starts to find them at Xavier's Institute, will she have gotten more than she bargained for?
1. Over My Head

**Author's Note:**

First XMEN Fanfiction, first story on this site-- please review, any imput is appreciated, and I DO NOT own X-Men Evolution, otherwise there would be a character by my name in there wreaking havok ^_^.

~BianKa/Bianquis

**17:32**

**Ramey Base, Puerto Rico**

You'd think that living on a tropical island would save you from certain problems that go on everywhere else. In its own way, it does, but this was one issue that I couldn't escape from.

The sound of the TV blaring in the living room down the hall could be heard from my room, even through the solid wooden door and the cement walls. The news overflowed with reports translated into Spanish from around the world, all in regards to mutants. As selfish as it was, mutants taking over the world wasn't at the top of my list of things to worry about. While everyone debated over the issue of them becoming a part of society, my biggest issue was more of a local one.

Correction: it was about as personal as the matter could possibly get.

"Chiquita, you okay?" My mother's voice came from beyond my door, followed by a sharp knock. I didn't say anything, hoping that maybe she would just assume I was sleeping. "You need to eat something."

"I know," I sighed in Spanish, loud enough for her to hear. "I'll be out in a second."

"Okay…"

With a grunt I sat up in my bed and stretched. My arms and back cracked, the bruises I couldn't clearly remember receiving protesting the movements. My body felt sore and my head was a whirlwind, shifting from pain to dizziness at the most inopportune of moments. Right now there was simply a dull pounding against my forehead, the best I'd felt since last night.

Last night... I couldn't remember much after I'd gone crazy. I knew that I'd run out of the party, through the city, and somehow collapsed on my bed without having my mother even question my arrival, but everything after I had spoken to Cristina was a blur I didn't want to clarify.

"Chiquita…" I jumped, not having noticed that my mother was still standing at the closed door. "Don't stress yourself too much over Andrew. You'll find someone better soon enough." This time I heard the slapping of her sandals against her heels as she walked away, but I didn't calm until I was certain that she'd gone beyond earshot. I sighed, the anxiety returning.

As much as I wanted to lie to myself and pretend that I couldn't remember the party, I couldn't fool my own head, or forget the memories that were so clearly etched behind my eyelids. Closing my eyes, I allowed the memories to play unbridled for a few minutes, in hopes they'd lose their novelty by the time sleep came around.

**Flashback:**

**One Night Earlier**

Something bad was about to happen.

The get-together was in full swing, my cousin, Chino, managing the music like the professional DJ that he was as people moved around, dancing in corners or under the stars in the backyard. Andrew and I were lounging on a sofa, watching a game of truth or dare that some of my classmates were playing. Compared to the parties that we'd had in this house over the summer, this one was particularly low-key, and considering that the alcohol had been kept to a minimum and all the bedrooms had been locked, I couldn't understand the paranoid feeling creeping up my spine.

"Baby, something wrong?" he repeated, squeezing my shoulder. I hadn't even noticed that Andrew was speaking to me, so I mustered up a smile and patted his hand.

"It's nothing."

He looked at me for a moment with his dark eyes, but eventually returned my false smile with a real one. "Okay, Chiquita..." he said, and kissed my forehead.

I winced, another wave of anxiety washing over. He pulled back to look at me, and I struck my poker face again. This time he fixed his steady gaze firmly, and I knew there'd be no avoiding it unless I got away soon. Chuckling nervously, I looked around for an excuse to leave and noticed the drink in my hand. "Whoops, guess I had too much to drink," I said, quickly standing up.

"You don't drink," he reminded me. I held up my plastic cup of Coke.

"Yes, I do." He shook his head, but a smile crept at the corners of his mouth. "Warm soda can't be healthy, so I'm gonna get myself another. You want?"

"I'm fine,_ loquita_," he answered, waving a hand. "Be back quickly?"

"_Claro que si_," I called with a wink, already down the hall and heading into the kitchen.

Set across the kitchen counter were several bowls of chips, dip and _picadillos, _finger food of the best kind. Two girls were whispering to each other and hovering over a cell phone, most likely expecting a text. I recognized one as Andrew's cousin, Cristina, but the other girl was just another mini-drama queen from the 9th grade, so I'd never bothered to learn her name. Brushing past them, I went to the refrigerator and pulled out a liter of soda.

They immediately went silent, but that wasn't anything new: all of the kids seem to have a slight aversion to me. My mother had once suggested that it had to do with the fact that I didn't look like them, but my jeans and white camisole were hardly anything compared to the gothic phase that I went through during freshman year. "Intimidation" had been the eventual verdict behind the masses' strange behavior, but whatever it was that intimidated them, it was unintentional on my part. Ignoring them, I pushed my cup to the ice dispenser.

"Andrea, I heard about what happened with Andrew."

The one who had spoken was Cristina, a sympathetic look on her face as she came to stand next to me. We'd spoken at their family reunions since Andrew and I had gotten together a couple of months ago, but we weren't what anyone would consider to be close, so I found this to be somewhat odd. Then again, most girls tended to do this when "tragedy" arose, extending friendship where there would have never been an opportunity.

Figuring she was talking about our row the other day, I shrugged. "Stuff happens. When people get angry, they say and do things they don't mean." A quiet fizzing noise came out of the bottle as I cracked away the cap, the familiar sharp smell reaching my nose. She seemed surprised.

"So you forgave him?"

"Well, yeah," I said, shrugging again. Why was she reacting so strongly? "It wasn't as if he was serious about it." She nodded sagely in agreement, patting my bare arm with a sweaty hand—the night was strangely hot, and suddenly I felt the need for a drink—not of the carbonated kind, but rather a drink with a more alcoholic base. The prospect of just a soda without anything to spike it seemed bland, and that made me feel strangely irritable. So distracted I was by this alien desire that I almost didn't hear what she said next.

"You're right. I mean, it's obvious he loves you, not that skank, Frances."

Ice water seemed to plummet into my insides, and the Coke liter shook in my suddenly tight grip. There was no delayed reaction in which I realized what she had meant because it had dawned on me as she was saying it.

The fake worry and sympathy were blown away by pity and annoyance: the moment she'd touched me she'd projected that she thought me a fool for being with him, for allowing him to disrespect me so. There wasn't a sliver of doubt: I had known something was off about how I was being looked at, and I had known that it wasn't just the jealousy-ridden, fight-seeking wildcat inside of me that had kept wondering about that girl. The paranoia was coming from somewhere, and it only took a moment to put two and two together and see that it was from him.

The rage that overcame me was so strong that I wasn't sure if I imagined the heat rising in the room as my eyes washed over with red. Without a word, I clutched the liter in both hands and swiftly left the kitchen, my whole body vibrating with emotion as I entered the living room and saw him sitting there lazily, a brief smile lighting his face when he saw me.

Then he really looked, and the smile vanished as he stood to his feet.

"Chiquita, what's—"

"Who the HELL do you think you are?" I yelled, advancing on him. He just stood there, unable to speak for a moment, and I pushed him in the chest, hard enough that he tripped back and had to circle away to keep from falling onto the couch.

"Chiquita—"

"Don't you dare call me that!" I shouted, even louder. He stared at me in shock, and that only fueled my anger. "You're a liar, a cheating, lying BASTARD!"

To anyone else, his expression would have looked the same, and even to me, it did, but I felt it—the moment of realization, and the same cold feeling I'd experienced only moments before, backed with a tiny pang of guilt that was all his own.

However, him being the master I'd never known him to be, he just played it off and pulled me into an embrace.

"Andrea, I don't know what you're—"

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" I screamed, hitting his chest until he released me and backing away with clenched fists.

"Baby, I swear—"

"SHUT UP!" I chucked the nearly-full liter of soda at him with as much force as I could muster. When it came in contact with his face, his head collided into the wall with a sickening crack, and several girls in the room began to scream. He momentarily lost his balance and grunted in pain as he stumbled over his feet, reaching for anything to keep from falling to the floor. I stepped forward to shove him again but a pair of hands held me back as his friends rushed forward to help him.

"Danielle, calm down!"

I struggled against the boy's hold, kicking and thrashing out as I watched the people crowd around Andrew, the poor and helpless victim. They looked at me in horror, mouths open and eyes filled with anger. I distantly noticed that the one holding me was my elementary school "boyfriend" Robert, the first kid who'd made use of the name after the hyphen in Andrea-Danielle, and had eventually proposed in the playground.

I'd had the sweetest people around me, and wasted my time on this liar and his false promises.

Suddenly I no longer felt hurt, only the insatiable need to hurt him, to _kill_ Andrew.

"Let me go!" I roared, and broke one of my arms loose. He tried to clamp my arm down, but I brought the heel of my shoe down hard against his shin, leaving what I was sure would be a nasty bruise. He cried out in pain and I flinched, the sound of his agony seeming twice as loud in my ears until I broke away.

I collided straight into the chest of one of Andrew's friends, and this one wasn't quite as gentle. Reaching down he hoisted me onto his shoulder, unceremoniously lifting me about six feet into the air. Despite the change in elevation I continued to struggle, the need for blood almost vital. I clawed against his back and the arms that were binding me, my eyes fixed on Andrew's slumped form against the couch.

"Andrea, what are—" Andrew grunted and looked up at me, his eyes both confused and scared.

_Something's wrong, this isn't Andrea. Despite everything, being so violent isn't normal… even coming from a girl as temperamental as her._

As he blacked out, I realized the lack of orthography in my thoughts.

_A girl as temperamental as __**me.**_

Why would I think of myself in third person?

In the breath I took to think of that, I became desperate, not for violence, but for peace. I knew he was wrong, but this just didn't seem like the way to go about it—Andrew was a really good guy, he could just make some stupid mistakes when it came to women. It wasn't worth killing him over, neither of them deserved that. I stopped fighting for a moment, somewhat whiplashed by my change of heart.

_Whose side am I on, anyway?_

Jordan set me down carefully, the whole room in a hush. "Andrea, are you better now?" he asked quietly, both hands on my shoulders, whether as a restraint or for comfort, I couldn't tell. I felt lightheaded, that was how I felt. I looked around in a daze, and through all of the gaping faces, I saw her.

I hadn't been sure as to whether I wanted to hurt him or not, but I knew for certain that she was somebody I wanted to kill.

Fear filled her face, and I tasted it like salt. Faster than I even knew I could move I was in front of her, her shirt balled in my hands as I pushed her up against a wall. She cried out and several people rushed forward but I didn't release her. I grabbed a fistful of her hair and brought her face close to mine, those watery green eyes that had enticed him meeting mine with terror. Her fear paralyzed my body, but couldn't dominate the rage that belonged to me and the women in the room.

_About time somebody kicked her ass..._

I chuckled, my grin widening as her eyes grew large. "Doesn't seem like such a bright idea now, does it?" I asked, just loud enough for her to hear. "You figured everyone would protect you, but obviously, you don't know who you're dealing with... you're nothing but an insect," I hissed just as I got pulled away by Jordan and thrown to the floor.

Cold gripped me tighter than any of them had, and the sudden silence made my throat catch. Finally nobody was touching me, nobody could influence me, but... I wanted so much, I just couldn't move fast enough, or be in enough places to do anything. I was shaking with the aftershock of all of the anger, so overridden with emotion that I didn't even notice why the girl clinging to Andrew was really screaming.

I looked up and was met with brown eyes, wild as an animal and flashing gold at the edges of the irises. A mane of untamed pitch hair haloed the strong-featured pale face, falling past her shoulders and to her lower back. I blinked, and realized it was my own reflection staring back at me from one of the mirrored vases scattered about the house. Immediately I scrambled away, covering my mouth in horror. This was more than just an angry outburst.

Those eyes weren't human... but they were _mine._

I looked around wildly and was met with the expressions I'd expected—no, _known_—would appear on each of their faces. I knew exactly what each of them felt, and would have given anything for it to have just been intuition, but my eyes couldn't be hidden, and I decided it was neither the time nor place to be caught confused or anything less than completely armed. As swiftly as this whole scene had come to pass, I got to my feet and ran past everybody out the front door, not caring for the hour of the night or for the fact that it was easily ten minutes to my house.

I just needed to run until I found the person that I'd lost in my own mind.

**End Flashback**

Nobody had followed me home, but Chino had stopped by to make sure I'd gotten back safe early in the morning. It would seem that he had been the one to tell my mother of Andrew's cheating antics and my temper tantrum, and I was grateful that she was leaving me alone to think things through.

Cristina, Andrew, Robert, Jordan and Frances—I couldn't explain exactly how, but something had happened that had laid them out to me: their desires, values, forms of thinking... They were now the most predictable people in the world. All I remembered feeling was from their perspective: Cristina's cravings, Andrew's paranoia, Robert's hatred towards Andrew, but the frustration of holding me back when he longed for a fight... it was confusing, and even more so that I was calm with the fact that this wasn't normal.

I shouldn't be able to understand them so thoroughly.

Running a hand through my hair, I forced myself to stand. I could quite possibly blame my outburst on a temper that nobody had ever heard of. Most of my issues were in the mind anyways, not like the one guy the authorities had tried to detain in San Juan for setting the plaza on fire. Then again, it could have just been a one-time thing and have nothing to do with mutation: things would return to normal then, right?

Right...?

Shaking my head, I turned the lock on the door knob with a click and pushed it open into somebody.

"Sorry, I didn't—" My muttered apology was cut short as I took him in. The person I'd hit was a man who appeared to be in his mid-thirties, his complexion white and his hair blue-black. He was dressed in jeans with a jean jacket over a white T-shirt, clothes that were casual enough, but his stance was tense, coiled to spring at the slightest sign of danger, and it was intoxicating just how alert he was. Nothing escaped those piercing eyes and that sensitive nose as he sniffed the air, not even me. He turned his head and sized me up out of the corner of his eye.

"Found her," he said with a grunt. Before I could react, my mother turned around and smiled excitedly at me.

"Andrea, this is Mr. Logan, from that school I mentioned to you," she said, her cheeks warm and her smile wide. She'd mentioned some prep school calling to offer a scholarship, but the details had been sketchy and she'd been waiting for the school's representative to come and talk to us. I'd almost forgotten completely, what with all the other worries crowding in my head and begging for attention.

"Um… cool," I said, trying to feign enthusiasm. She was too excited to really pay much attention and hurried to the kitchen, most likely to make coffee. I eyed the teacher warily, but when I didn't sense any danger from him or any fear from my family throughout the house, I followed him to the living room, idly noticing that the TV had been turned off. An older man in a wheelchair turned his chair to face me properly as I entered the room, a welcoming smile on his face.

"Hello, Andrea," he said, nodding. I eyed him suspiciously, and gave everyone else a quick once-over. Two older teens, obviously a couple: the woman was a redhead, and it didn't take any heightened sensitivity to feel the critical perfectionism she applied to herself. The male was tall and wore a pair of deep red sunglasses, the lenses far too heavy to be a cheap, gas station pair. He was dressed neatly, as was the older man and the girl; this would have led me to believe they were here on business were it not for the so-named Logan's alertness. I looked back at the older man.

"I'm Professor Charles Xavier," he continued, and motioned to his companions. "This is Scott Summers and this is Jean Grey. They are both students at my school, and I'm here to speak with you and your parents about quite possibly enrolling you with us."

"I'm in my junior year," I stated, unsure as to why anyone would be interested in enrolling me halfway through high school. "How'd you find me, anyway?"

"I believe it would be best if we discussed this with your parents present," he said, skillfully avoiding my questions. There I knew: this wasn't a normal visit, and I could tell by the tenseness in the younger man's shoulders.

"You mean, discuss with my mother," I corrected, plastering a smile on my face as she entered the room. "My father doesn't live with us."

"We've been separated for about nine years now," she explained, motioning for everyone to sit down. The couple settled into one couch and the Professor rolled next to it, Mr. Logan standing next to him. I settled next to my mom at the other couch. "I assume you've already met my daughter, Andrea? They've told me that this school would be good for your abilities," she said, addressing me with a proud smile.

My breath stopped in my chest and I looked toward the Professor. He was staring at me evenly, almost confirming what I dreaded without a single word. Shaking my head, I stood up, making Mr. Logan bristle. Crazy imagination, making up misunderstandings where there shouldn't be any. They were talking about math or science or some other scholastic ability.

They couldn't possibly know.

"Andrea, please listen to us," the Professor said calmly, but I was too busy trying not to panic to attempt a calm demeanor. Crossing my arms, I stood between the door and the sofa, focusing my eyes on the older man. I could feel it now: he was perceptive like me. The way he looked at me and the way he looked at my mother—he _knew_ the way that I knew, only different. My gut feelings were nothing in comparison to the strength I felt from this man, and I didn't want to take a step closer.

"I'm listening," I answered stiffly through tight lips. My mother glared, appalled at my rudeness, but the Professor simply accepted it with a nod and turned to my mother. The redhead still looked at me, but I averted my gaze from her: she made me uncomfortable.

"It has come to our attention that your daughter has exhibited particularly... exceptional gifts," he began, but my mother still looked between us with the same confused expression, waiting for the moment of enlightenment. I gulped. She could be too perceptive for her own good, too.

"Andrea, how would you feel if _you_ explained?" the redhead suggested, a smile on her face. I stared at her.

"May I ask what this is about?"

Ignoring my mother's cold tone, I continued to stare. Were they for real? "Exactly what are they talking about?" my mother asked me in Spanish, but I dismissed her again. "Andrea!"

"How do you guys expect me to know?" I asked. My voice was smooth, but I couldn't stop it from catching at the end. I gulped again, and took a deep breath. "Who are you, and what do you want?"

"We're like you, Andrea, and we only want to help," the so-named Scott Summers said, smiling carefully at me. I sized him up: in a fight, he would have the upper hand. I took another step back.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I insisted, daring him with my eyes to object. "I appreciate your concern, but I'm perfectly—"

"How about you tell us exactly what happened last night?"

This time my mother and I tensed up at the same time. I had no idea what to say, but my mother knew all too well how to react. "Excuse me?" she exclaimed, getting to her feet. I looked at the man, curious and wary at the same time. I needed to know something. "What happens in my daughter's personal life is her business! A school should have nothing to do with that! Andrea, go--"

_Call me Danielle._

Xavier smiled. "Alright then. Danielle?"

I knew it. This man had heard me speak to him without words, and had heard without error.

"How did you know?" I asked out loud, and he answered the way I had spoken to him before.

_We have our ways. We only want to help, Danielle._

"How do I know you're not one of them?" I didn't have to specify that I was referring to mutant-hunters.

_I do believed that I've proven myself to be a mutant myself, haven't I?_

I sighed. Something felt off, but it was about time that I got things clear with my mother at least. "Mom, there's something I have to tell you." She looked at me, the distress apparent in everything about her. It pulled me, but I forced myself to ignore it before I began to mirror her as well. "Something... strange happened last night."

"Chino told me that Andrew..." she trailed off meaningfully. Uncrossing my arms, I stuffed my hands into my shorts pockets and looked down at my shoes. "You don't have to talk about it if you're uncomfortable, we can wait until later."

"Don't worry, it's not that." Biting my lip, I looked up at the Professor, who nodded in encouragement. I let out the breath I'd been holding. "Well, you already know I've always been very sensitive, right?" I began, and she nodded, clearly not knowing what this had to do with anything. "Well, lately it's been getting worse."

"The panic attacks?"

"Well, yeah, but that's not what I mean." Her need to understand was jerking at my tongue, so I tried my best to word it out as quickly as possible. "I mean that I can... well, I feel what another person is feeling at any given time."

Her doubt made me feel embarrassed and I looked away, more towards the kitchen area. "I'm not sure what triggers it, or why last night I went crazy, but I felt Andrew's paranoia, and thought that maybe it was a panic attack coming on, so I moved away from him to calm down. In the kitchen Cristina accidentally told me what he'd been doing, and while she was talking to me, I felt an almost uncontrollable need to drink something strong, with Don Q and Pasoa or something..." I felt I could go on about all the things I'd been craving, but chose to leave it there to keep the girl from getting into any more trouble.

"Cristina's just going through one of those phases, y'know? That, added onto how I felt about Andrew... it was overwhelming, and I lost it," I muttered. I didn't want to say anymore, and distantly hoped that was enough information.

"What do you mean, 'lost it'?" the redhead, Jean, inquired. I mentally sighed, and decided to elaborate.

"I don't remember too much. I know that I became very violent and knocked out my **ex**-boyfriend with a bottle of soda, but half of the tension wasn't even mine. It was scary, but also kind of..." How did you describe that unbridled feeling?

_Exhilarating, that's what..._

A moment of silence passed, and my mom spoke up. "Well, we all have our tempers," she reasoned, laughing lightly. "And anyways, the little ass deserved it." Her attempt at lightheartedness was so fake that I doubted she was fooling anybody. A snort from the short man proved me correct.

"Logan, would you please go check on the X-Van?" the Professor asked, somewhat crisply. Shaking his head and smiling to himself, left. I flushed pink: this was going to be hard. Once he was gone, the Professor cleared his throat and addressed my mother.

"Now, Mrs. Cruz, I understand that it may be hard to consider what Andrea is going through right now," he said calmly, "but these changes are not the same that are to be expected of all children."

"What are you trying to say?" my mother challenged, an attempt to cover up the fact that she was worried and scared. "You want to lock her up in an institution, too?" I lowered my head at this: here, children who knew too much were cured in a more "scientific and humane" form.

He must have sensed my embarrassment, because the Professor quickly veered the conversation away from that subject. "No, not lock her up," he quickly corrected. "Just help her to learn control of her gifts, and provide an environment where she will be safe to grow with others like her."

"I know there are plenty of kids who are sensitive like Andrea, but it's really not that big of a—"

Before she could continue, I turned on the TV. "He means gifts like _those_ people have, Mom." My tone was unintentionally icy, but I didn't care. My mother finally sat back down and was frozen in place, her eyes glued to the television in horror as the three visitors stayed silent. I turned to my mother. "Being _this_ sensitive isn't _normal_, Mom."

"She's... a _mutant_?" she whispered. I couldn't help but flinch: she'd said it, the taboo word.

"Yes, Mrs. Cruz, she is," the Professor stated, folding his hands on his lap. "Unlike most young mutants, it would seem that your daughter's telepathic gifts began to develop at a much younger age than would be expected. Now, though, it is clear that she cannot continue to hide her powers as she did before."

"Powers?" she repeated, incredulous. "These... _episodes_ can hardly qualify as--!"

"The mutant gene can take many forms, ma'am," Jean interjected. "The Professor and I are both telepaths, and several of the students at the Institute have very unique abilities."

"I don't care about—" she stopped herself and took a deep breath. "I'm not too sure that I follow. You people come out of nowhere to tell me that my daughter can suddenly read minds, and I'm supposed to believe you? I think it would be best if you all just--"

"Mom, don't you get it?!" I snapped before anybody else could respond. "They're right, okay?" The tears in her eyes were what made me lower my voice. She knew the truth, but didn't want to face it out of fear of what would happen once I was thrown into the world as a living target.

"Mom...I've spent all my life thinking something was wrong with me, and now I know the reason why," I whispered, trying to get her to see things from my perspective. She shook her head stubbornly, and I realized I couldn't take much more. "Look, just... think about it, okay? This isn't easy to accept, and I could use your help."

As I was turning to go, the Professor called my name. "Look, I need to blow off some steam, okay?" I said apologetically, pulling my hair into a ponytail. "I really don't know who you people are, but we can talk later about whatever it is you came to talk about. This is a lot for her to take in at once."

_And for you, I'm sure._

The voice this time came from the redhead, her tone sympathetic. I swallowed hard and turned away, already starting to run before I'd even gotten to the doorway.

_It's nothing new, just proof that it's not __**all**__ in my head._

*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

**Xavier's POV**

This was going to be much more difficult than I'd thought.

The woman hadn't spoken for several minutes, simply gone over the conversation we'd just had over and over in her head. Scott and Jean were restless, so I sent them to wait outside with Logan; having too many people present was making the woman nervous.

"Um, Professor?" Scott looked in from the hallway, an unsure look on his face.

"Yes, Scott?"

Mrs. Cruz looked up wearily, but her face lit with recognition as a short, heavy-weight eighteen-year-old walked in. His black braids ran across his head in an intricate design and his worn A-shirt hung from his muscular frame as he walked in breathlessly, worry etched on his sweaty face.

"_Tía, bendicion, donde esta la Chiquita_?"he asked, looking around in hopes that his cousin would appear.

"_Que paso, Gianni?" _

"I need to find her, it's important," he said, and moved to the living room.

As stood to her feet, I took tabs on the situation from his surface thoughts and relayed them urgently to Scott, Jean and Logan.

"She's in danger. We have to hurry."


	2. Burning For You

Author's Note:

Just to clear a few things up...

1)The girl's name is Andrea-Danielle.

2)Her cousin's name is Gianni, but his nickname is Chino because he had Asian-looking eyes as a child.

3)Any other questions let me know, but things will be better cleared up in the next chapter—X-Men are coming, don't worry!

And sorry for any confusions in previos chqapters, i just realized that certain names were absent throughout the chapters, such as Mr. Logan's and Dr. McCoy's, but I think I've fixed them all!

Rate and Review, thanks!

*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

**Burning For You**

**Danielle POV**

As I'd hoped, the exercise brought on the endorphin rush and helped get rid of the excess negativity from the meeting. The beach was just over a small ridge to my left, so without really knowing why, I took to that direction and scaled down the small cliff to the sand. A group of three or four people was sitting on the shore, but I ignored them and continued along the tree line.

Being careful not to twist my ankle on any buried coconuts—or visible ones—I found that everything seemed much simpler when focused on something. The long stretch of beach, already abandoned by tourists as they headed back to begin the school year, beckoned me, tempted me to just lay out on the sand and forget about everything and everybody. A breeze picked up and I smiled: I loved this place.

"Hey, Andrea!"

_There goes reality, taking a dump on my parade..._

Instinctively I stopped, but when I looked around, I didn't see anyone. After a moment I continued to jog, but someone stumbled out from the trees and blocked my path. It was Andrew, a clear bottle with clear, strong-smelling liquid held in his hand. His normally well-groomed hair was messy and greasy, his eyes bloodshot. All in all, he looked a royal mess, and it almost made me feel guilty for rendering him unconscious.

As he staggered closer to me, it was both instinct and my deepest desire to get away from him. "_Chiquita, mi amor_," he drawled, grinning stupidly. "I missed you...!"

Okay, guilt-trip over.

"You're drunk," I stated with disgust, resisting the urge to gag as his foul breath reached my nose. "Ugh, and you stink!" I tried to move past him, but he grabbed my arm and held me back.

"Aw, you're not still mad about what happened with Frances, are you?" he whined. "You know I love you, baby, and only you! We can get through this, I know we can." I glared at him.

"Don't touch me," I snapped, jerking my arm away. "Look, I don't have time for your shit, alright? Go back to doing whatever you were doing and leave me—"

"But baby—"

"Leave. Me. Alone," I said firmly, giving him a serious look. He seemed to take the hint, and when I turned away, he didn't try to hold me back.

Instead, two guys came out of the trees and held me back for him. Immediately I let out a scream and fought against them, but each had tight holds on my arms and weren't being too gentle at all. "Let me go!" I yelled, but they only laughed. I recognized them from the party and noticed that all three were wearing the same clothes they had been wearing last night.

"Why don't you stick around?" Andrew asked, grinning again. I lunged at him, not caring that it sent a painful shock through my shoulders. He burst into laughter at my cry of pain, so when that didn't work, I pulled my head back and spat in his face.

He seemed to jolt in shock, but I was waiting for that opening. In a swift motion I shook away from one of the guys and kneed the other in the groin, silently sending him to the floor. As if on cue by a gunshot I bolted past Andrew and back to where I'd seen that group of people lounging around the sand dunes. They looked up as I approached, but before I could feel any sort of relief that I may have found help, there was the stomach-dropping moment as I caught the looks in their eyes and unwillingly felt the waves of hatred rolling off of them.

Several confusing emotions came to me, all horrible, but thankfully from a more third-person perspective than the ones from last night. I staggered back, confused by everything swimming through my head and fogging my vision, until I was able to put them together and figure out the source.

They'd been abused by a mutant. It was unclear just who, but the extent of the damage was deep, and though I hurt for them, I knew it wasn't safe for me to be there with my eyes glowing as they were. It wasn't as if I felt the difference when they changed, but the change from their previously harmless presences to a suddenly sadistic hunger said it all.

I stopped as they got to their feet, and when I looked back, Andrew and his near-alcoholic friend were running in my direction. Looking towards the ridge I'd jumped down earlier, I didn't have time to calculate if I'd be able to climb up before they reached me.

"Get her, quick!"

My hands easily found holdings in the rocks and I lodged my foot against a thick root, but just as I'd rested my hands on the grassy surface of the top, somebody grabbed my ankle and jerked it hard. The sharp rocks grated against my face and arms as I was pulled down, shouts and laughter only magnifying the pain as I reached the sand again and collapsed on my back. Before I could recover, a man pulled me up by my shoulders and held me in a tight arm lock. I hissed as coarse fabric rubbed along the raw skin on my arms.

"Don't let her see!"

A handful of wet sand hit my face, and instinctively I refused to open my eyes or mouth. Despite the pain in my neck, I lowered my head to drop some of the sand from my face, only to have another fistful thrown at me.

And another.

And another.

"What the hell are you doing to her?" I heard Andrew exclaim.

"Get lost," the girl who'd spoken ordered, and before he could object, something thudded into him and shut him up. The sound of his friend running away came immediately after.

I turned my head towards my shoulder to breathe and somebody gripped my chin, forcing me to turn straight. Acrylic nails poked into the scrapes along my jaw line, making me wince. "Not as easy to fight without those glowing eyes of yours, huh? Come on, give me your best shot," the girl egged. I couldn't tell who she was or why she was doing this, but even if I couldn't see her, I could sense that she had no intention of letting me leave unscarred... or leave at all, for that matter. "Your kind just can't resist using their powers on us, so come on!"

"Use your powers," the man holding me hissed maliciously. He wanted me to hurt because he was attached to Frances and blamed me for her misfortune. Judging by the size of his arms, I figured him to be her older brother. "You didn't hesitate to use them on Frances, did you?" Yeah, he was definitely her brother.

_And what the hell good's knowing __**that**__ gonna do?_

"I'm not going to hurt you," I said quietly, not wanting to raise my voice in fear that I'd start to scream. "Just let me go."

She barked a laugh. "I'm soooo scared, the little mutant princess is holding back!" After they shared a laugh, she stuffed another handful of wet sand in my face. "Alright, you hold her legs. Let's see just how much she can really take."

Somebody grabbed my ankles and lodged them to their waist, leaving me suspended in the air and making the man holding my arms increase his strength. I gasped, but still couldn't open my eyes because of the sand caked into my eyelids. Something cut at my shirt and the girl ripped it away, leaving me in nothing but shorts and a sports bra. I yelled in protest until the sharp tip of her knife brushed my stomach, warning me to stay still.

Panic welled in my chest as I began to hyperventilate. Tears pricked behind the eyes I couldn't open and it dawned on me how defenseless I was: this was how they had felt. The all-too familiar sound of a lighter clicking to life reached my ears, making it impossible to hold back the screams.

The heat of the flame licked my side and lower back as she brushed it back and forth, moving it slowly as my skin burned with indescribable agony: such a tiny force, and yet so powerful. I writhed in pain and thrashed against them, but it was no use: I couldn't get away, and the sadism rolling off of them only made me want to rip their eyes out. Suddenly she pulled back, and just as I thought I'd been saved, the heat of the lighter approached my face, and something snapped.

Without thinking, I touched the lighter without my hands.

The lighter clicked and exploded, sending bits of burning plastic and metal propelling in all directions. The ones holding me cried out and dropped me to the sand, knocking the wind out of my chest. My skin to sizzled against the sun-heated ground and little points of pain stung where shards had caught me in the crossfire, but I was free. I coughed, gasping for breath and wiping the sand away from my eyes to get a hold on my surroundings.

A red stream of light collided with the ground next to me, sending Frances's brother scrambling away. It promptly vanished and shot out to block some skinny guy with singed hair, his eyes widening in horror at something on top of the ridge.

"Crazy mutants!" he yelled, and took off after his companion. I blinked the sand away just as several pairs of feet thudded next to me.

The short man, Mr. Logan, helped me get to my knees as Scott and Jean bombarded me with questions.

"Danielle, are you okay?"

"What happened?"

"Who were those people?"

"Can you understand me?"

When I didn't answer anything and couldn't stand, Mr. Logan lifted me up and jumped to the top of the ridge with a grunt. "Let's just get her to the Professor," he said, his voice gruff. Through everything that was happening, I somehow managed to sense the anger he was just barely able to contain, the animal that longed to go back and even the score. Without much thought, I lightly laid my fingers on his chest and closed my eyes.

"Thanks, Mr. Logan..."


	3. The Ball

Author's Note:

This chapter's a bit longer, but we're getting some X-Men in here. Next chapter will be in the Institute, but first I'd like some input:

Before I introduce Kitty, I'd like to hear your opinions on whether you'd like for this to be Kurty or Lancitty. Maybe I'll make a poll, but in case I don't, I'd like to hear =] (Oh, and if anyone thinks I'm separating Rogue and her Cajun, think again, this is Romy!)

This chapter's title is a song by James Otto; the song itself doesn't have much to do with the story, but the message it's giving does, in case you want to look it up.

Other than that, thanks a million to rogue-scholar 07 for reviewing, and sorry for the confusion, girl! The rest of you, please review and let me know if you liked it or not, I really appreciate it ;] On with the story!

**The Ball**

"Where the hell's Bayville, in Satan's ass or something?"

I sighed; Chino had never been known for his eloquent way with words, so after politely telling him exactly how big of an idiot he was being, I patiently explained. "No, Bayville is **not** in Satan's ass; it's close to New York and all of those other coastal places where chick flicks are filmed."

"You serious?" he muttered. "That sucks."

I shrugged for both of us. "_Pues, ¿qué se puede hacer?_"

(Well, what can you do?)

We were both seated on the biggest couch in his house, a bag of Ruffles opened between us along with a super-sized cup of soda that his mother had brought from McDonalds. My mother was in the kitchen talking to her sister about what had been going on as of late; she'd been pretending nothing was at all disturbing about yesterday, but had broken down to tears when she had seen her sister, hence the need for highly-fattening McSundaes, McFries and McSodas to drown and poison the problems.

In complete honesty, I didn't mind the complimentary junk food that came with my mom finding out that she gave birth to a mutant, but everything else was energy-draining. It had taken carrying me unconscious to the house covered in bruises and bleeding from the abused burns to convince my mother that I was no longer safe here, and for the past couple of hours since then, she and I had been coming to terms with moving away.

It was funny how, even to my cousin, he felt that would be the most traumatic part of the whole deal. The girl they'd been living with for years suddenly turning out to be an unstable psychic mutant meant nothing, but the fact that she'd only be visiting for the holidays changed **everything.** He elbowed me, and I elbowed him back.

"Yeah, yeah, I love you too."

"Oh right, how's your back doing?" he asked, suddenly remembering that Mom and Tia Magdalena had classified me as an injured person. Surprised that I'd forgotten to mention it to him, I bent forward and lifted up my shirt.

"It went away a couple of hours after I got back," I said, grinning at his wide-eyed expression. "What? You recovered from a bullet overnight, it's not like this is such a big deal." He shook his head, and cautiously touched the skin where I'd been burned the day before.

"That was a miracle, and I was scarred. You have nothing to show for it," he argued, lifting my shirt up a couple of inches higher to check the rest of my back. "If I hadn't seen it myself, I wouldn't have any idea what happened." I rolled my eyes as he continued the inspection.

"That was the only reason Mom didn't file a police report," I informed him. "The Professor doesn't know what it could've been, but apparently there's somebody at the Institute who's gonna try and help us pinpoint what my powers are and how to handle them."

"The Professor's that guy in the wheelchair, right?"

"Yeah. He's a telepath too."

"Oh, so you're a _telepath_? Don't go all fancy and shit on me," he teased, finally satisfied with his search and pulling my shirt back down. I shoved him to the side, but smiled nonetheless.

"I guess," I answered, shrugging. "So far, that's the only thing I can explain."

"So, tell me what I'm thinking," he challenged, closing his eyes and concentrating. I sighed.

"Knowing you, it's something perverted or stupid," I muttered. "And anyways, it doesn't work all the time, and not even like that. The Professor could hear exactly what you're thinking, but I only know your nature."

"Would I understand you better if I installed subtitles or something?"

"No. And don't worry, I don't have you mapped out like I have the people from the party anyways," I said reassuringly. He looked at me curiously.

"Mapped out? What the hell does that mean?"

Just like him to insert cussing whenever possible. "What I mean is that I know how a person feels and thinks, and so I get an idea of what they would do in a given situation. With that I can put pieces together and sometimes figure things out, like I did with those people yesterday," I explained.

He nodded, but I could tell he was still slightly confused, so I elaborated even more.

"I could tell by the degree of their fear and hatred that they'd been abused by a mutant; it wasn't a blind fear, it was like they'd faced at least one mutant and experienced helplessness unlike any other, most likely in childhood. It instilled hatred that couldn't be budged by anything else, and they needed an outlet for all that anger. When they saw me and my sparkly eyes, everything came pouring out at once." He raised an eyebrow and pressed a hand to my forehead.

"You sure you're not sick? You sound almost sympathetic," he said slowly. I crossed my arms and leaned against his chest so he wouldn't see my face.

"People do things they don't mean when they've been hurt," I whispered. My cousin wrapped his arm around my shoulders and kissed the top of my head affectionately. Though I couldn't sense him like everybody else, we'd been partners in crime long enough that he didn't have to say anything. Just as I was dozing off he spoke up, his deep voice rumbling in his chest.

"I'm going to miss you, crazy kid," he admitted. "Then again, I have to admit that I'm kinda glad you can't read my mind." I smiled and lifted my head to kiss his cheek before snuggling back to place.

"Yeah... I'm gonna miss you too."

_Families here had a tendency to stick together for a couple of years. We all lived close enough to our immediate family members that we could walk to each other's houses, and that was something we did often despite our ages. It always started with Mauricio walking to my house because he was bored, and from there the two of us went dragging all of the guys along the block with us, and sometimes a couple of the girls. We thought we owned the block, and at eleven years of age, nobody had proven us wrong yet other than our own mothers._

_Andrea-Danielle had always been more of the quiet one, but when she moved in next door about eight years ago, we had no idea what we were in for. We'd stopped at her house just to get her younger brother, a chubby little goofball whose company we all enjoyed, and she'd tagged along with him, a basketball under her arm and a determined look on her face._

_We'd been hoping to not have to deal with any whiny girls that day, but because she was our long-lost cousin, we had to bring her along at least once and had opted to simply ignore her until we reached the public park. Once we arrived, a fierce game of man-hunt ensued, boys-only and with teams. She hadn't been picked because it would make an uneven number (although we'd found ways to deal with that dilemma many times before). When she realized she wasn't welcome, she ran to the basketball court and started to shoot hoops._

_The game quickly bored me and my attention started to wander over to where she was; even if she'd been the one to bring the ball, from what I saw, she couldn't get it to even touch the hoop or backboard. Without much thought I walked over, standing a couple of feet behind her to watch._

_Her cheeks were red with exertion and her face was sweaty, an excuse most of the girls I knew had always used to not play. She was tall for her age of nine and her hair was long and frizzy from the humidity; most girls around here had learned ways to deal with that, but she had only gotten here a week ago, and didn't seem to even care. _

_Whether she was ignoring me or hadn't noticed me watching her pathetic attempts at shooting a hoop, I couldn't tell. When she missed this time, though, the ball rolled away to the playground and I ran after it._

_When I came back she was just standing there, a cautious look on her face. Her brown eyes were rimmed with thick, hooded lashes that set shadows on her cheeks, something I'd failed to notice that we had in common. She was actually kind of pretty, in a willing-to-play-in-the-dirt kind of way. Masking my guilt with a scowl, I handed her the ball._

"_No sabes nada," I stated coldly. "¿Porqué no te largas?"_

_(You don't know anything. Why don't you just leave?)_

_She blinked, and I saw a blush spread across her cheeks. For a moment she couldn't speak, simply looked down at her shoes, and I immediately regretted saying something so rude. Eventually she managed to get the words out._

"_Yo... I don't speak Spanish," she mumbled. Simultaneously I felt a swell of relief that she'd spoken English; that meant she hadn't understood me. But then I realized something much more troubling._

_I didn't understand her._

"_Shit," I hissed, and she gaped at me, shocked at my foul language. Shaking my head and muttering a quick "sorry", I found I was reaching the end of my English vocabulary, and had only managed to scare her._

_She took my hand and placed it on the basketball. "Ball," she said firmly. I rolled my eyes, of course I knew what __**that**__ was called. When she looked at me questioningly, I realized that __**she**__ was the one that didn't know what to call it._

"_Bola," I said uncertainly, and she nodded, absorbing the word._

"_Can you..." she pointed at me, "show me," she pointed at herself, "to shoot," she mimicked throwing the ball, "la bola?"_

_I blinked. As strange as it was, I understood what she was trying to say, and considered how embarrassing this must be for her. Pulling her by the arm, I dragged her in front of the hoop and got into position. Almost as easily as breathing, I got the ball straight through the hoop, and it bounced back to us. I handed it to her._

"_Más duro," I commanded. She furrowed her eyebrows._

"_Harder?" She stomped her foot, referring to the concrete, and I figured there must have been a confusion in context._

"_No, no: con más __**fuerza**__," I clarified, and mimicked throwing the ball with exaggerated strength. Her mouth widened in an "o", and she threw the ball harder. It was an inch too low and I sighed, running after it._

"_**Más**__ duro," I repeated, handing her back the ball. She nodded seriously._

"_Okay."_

"Andrea, Gianni, get your asses up!" came the indignant screech of my New Yorker Aunt as she shook us awake. "Your ride's gon' be here any minute!"

Sleep yanked away its heavy blanket and I groaned, lifting myself up stiffly as Tia Magda sashayed to the kitchen. As I'd been sleeping it seemed that I'd fallen to lay face-up on my cousin's lap, his hand still resting on my bare shoulder as he also slept. He woke up and groggily met my eyes, his widening at the glow coming from my irises.

"So that's what a mutant looks like," he murmured, his voice still heavy with drowsiness.

Almost on reflex I muttered, "Shut up, _Gianni,_" knowing how much it bothered him that I call him by his first name. He pushed my face away with his wide hands, and that was when I realized something strange about my dream: it had all been from his perspective.

So much for not bonding with him. I couldn't help but laugh, shaking my head. "I never figured that you were throwing me out the day we first went to the park together," I said, and felt his quick shot of fear at my evil grin. "You were a real jerk back then!"

"You know I didn't mean it," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. "And where's this coming from, anyway? You were what, eight?"

"Nine," I corrected, "and you were dreaming about it, weren't you?"

He stared at me, his face paling. After a tense minute he got to his feet, shaking his head. "Forget it, I can't go anywhere with you," he stated, but I could tell that he was just embarrassed, and not upset or afraid. "Next thing I know, you're gonna be tapping into dirty dreams and crap."

"Nah, I think it was just because I was so close," I reasoned, and he accepted it with a nod.

"Okay, then. No more sleepovers."

With a laugh, I jumped to my feet and quickly hugged him from behind. "Alright, no more sleepovers," I agreed, despite the fact that we'd never really had any. A cough from the doorway made me turn around, and there I saw Mr. Logan with a handful of teenagers behind him. I smiled.

"Hey,Mr. Logan. Rest well?" Apparently that wasn't something he wanted to think about much because he seemed to almost visibly flinch; I noticed he was wearing the same clothes he'd been wearing the day before, and sensed that rest wasn't something he'd become too acquainted with on this trip.

"We're here to pick you up," he informed, eyeing my cousin. I picked up the large duffel bag I'd thrown next to the couch, packed tightly with clothes.

"Where can I load this?" I asked, and he motioned over his shoulder to an army-sized black Jeep.

"Cannonball here will take it to the van," he said, and a lanky blonde about my age came up. With an apologetic look I handed it to him but he hardly looked at me, his shyness something that didn't require a telepath to detect. "You got anything else?"

"Just a box in the kitchen," I answered.

"I got it," a brown-haired, brown-eyed boy said, stepping forward with a smile. He seemed a little younger than me, but not by much, and confidently strode into the kitchen to collect said box. My mom and Tia Magda's conversation immediately hushed, but the boy said something and came back out with a cardboard box in his arms. The box was filled with books, art supplies and other keepsakes to the bursting point, but he handled it with ease, a cocky smile on his face.

His foot caught on a low table he hadn't seen and he tripped forward, reflexively shooting out a hand. Ice seemed to pour from his wrist and hit the floor, effectively stopping his fall along with my heartbeat.

Well. They _had_ said that students at the Institute had unique gifts. Mr. Logan groaned, rubbing his forehead.

"Just get it to the car, Drake," he ordered, obviously exasperated. Only slightly abashed, he hurried out the door and was encouraged by a pat on the back from the only remaining person, a boy my age with blonde hair and spiky orange bangs. I was the first to recover, but Gianni was still staring stiffly at the ice mound that had begun to drip onto the floor. I cleared my throat.

"I'll... get the mop," he muttered, and stiffly marched to the kitchen.

"You say your goodbyes yet?" Mr. Logan asked, stepping forward once my cousin was gone. I shook my head.

"Mom will be out in a minute."

Sure enough my mother and aunt soon came into the living room, greeting him with polite smiles. We all walked out to the porch where the group of teenagers waited for us by the exaggeratingly huge van/Jeep, their expressions a mixture between bored and nervous.

"What's with the welcoming committee?"

"Andrea!" my mother hissed. didn't seem to notice.

"The Prof thought it'd be good if you got to know your teammates early on," he explained. I looked at the three boys somewhat apprehensively: these were some people I'd have to get to know pretty well from here on out, and I was more than a little excited that I was meeting people who were also mutants.

"There aren't any girls?" my mother nearly squeaked. I hadn't even noticed this fact, but now that she'd pointed it out, the only girl I'd met had been Jean, and she was an instructor at the Institute. There had to be more female mutants, right?

"The other girl in this team has... an _aversion _to flying, so we left her with and the others, but there are girls at the Institute. You'll meet them and everyone else once we get there," he said, and for some strange reason, I felt even more excited. "Okay X-Men, move out," he ordered, and they dutifully followed. Taking advantage of this moment of privacy, I turned to begin the goodbyes.

My aunt went first and held my face, kissing my cheek affectionately as tears swam in her eyes.

"You be good, you hear me?" she said, pursing her lips. I smiled weakly, and nodded.

"Okay, Tia."

I looked around for Chino, but he wasn't there. Worried that he'd be too late I felt my hands begin to shake, but before I could resign to it, he came running out of the house and skidded to a halt in front of me.

"Don't even _think_ about leaving without saying goodbye," he warned, ruffling my hair.

"Chino!" I whined, batting his hands away. He grinned and pulled me into a hug, the love we mutually felt warming my whole being. I smiled and closed my eyes for a moment. "I love you, Gianni," I said quietly.

"Love you too, psycho Andrea-Danielle," he answered, and pulled away before we could get too emotional. My mother looked at me with pained eyes, and didn't move as I wrapped my arms around her tightly.

"I love you, Mom," I whispered, feeling her pain, but swallowing it all down. We were hardly ever apart, so this was exceptionally hard for her. She took in a shaky breath and nodded, lifting her arms to hug me back. "I'll see you in December, okay?"

"Okay," she whispered, keeping her words short to keep from crying. "See you soon, Chiquita." I squeezed her tighter, savored the vanilla scent of her hair, and pulled away. Before I could start crying too, I pulled open the back door to the van and climbed up, sitting myself next to the orange-haired boy. Striking my scary grin, I hung out the door for a minute.

"Take care of Gabriel and Luke for me, okay?" I called to my mom, and closed the door. She laughed weakly and nodded, waving with her sister and my cousin as we drove away. With a sigh, I sat back into my seat and closed my eyes for a moment.

No turning back anymore.

"Gabriel and Luke?"

The question had come from the ice-boy in the passenger seat. He got a scolding look fromMr. Logan but ignored it, leaning over the side of the chair to better look at me. "Mind your own business, Drake," he warned under his breath, but I could hear him.

"They're my younger brothers," I replied, taking a deep breath. Conversation would be good to keep my mind off of what was going on. "They're at a retreat on the other side of the island, so I didn't get to see them."

"You've lived here your whole life?" he asked. From the sound of his voice, he seemed to consider that a praiseworthy feat. Considering the nature of his powers and the heat of the island, it wouldn't be surprising for him to think so.

"Nah. I was born here, but lived between Miami and New York for a couple of years before moving back." It'd been a while since I'd told somebody this, and I couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious by the attention. "This is my favorite place out of all, though."

"You'll like the Institute," he said, so sure of the fact that I almost believed him. "Scott and Jean can be a bit stiff, but it's a pretty cool place. I'm Bobby by the way, codename Iceman and team leader. That's Ray, aka Berserker." He pointed to the funny-haired guy next to me, and I smiled cautiously. "Sam, aka Cannonball. You'll see why later." He grinned and Sam looked away, a hint of embarrassment showing on his cheeks. I could only begin to imagine why he'd have a codename like that, or why they had codenames at all, but I decided to let it rest until later on.

"So, what's your name gonna be?"

I looked at him for a moment until I caught on. "Oh." I hadn't really thought about giving myself another name, but now that they brought it up, I found I wasn't sure about what I'd want to be called. This was a new beginning, and if I wanted to start off with a new name...

"How about you call me... Danielle, or Danny for short," I suggested. He seemed disappointed that I hadn't come up with a codename per see, but I shook my head and laughed lightly.

"Let's take this one step at a time, Mr. Iceman. Name now, codename later."


	4. Fireflies

**Author's Note:**

**You guys know how nobody's perfect, right?**

**Well, the very imperfect author of this story (myself) made a mistake with Danny's age and school year.**

**She's a senior and about to turn 18. My bad, I really don't know what happened!**

**And sorry for the EXTREME delay…**

**On with Chapter 4! The song is "Fireflies" by Owl City, I'm sure a lot of you are sick of this song and I don't know why I titled it this, but it has to do with dreams, so yeah =]**

_

* * *

_

_Recess._

_There's something about being outside of a classroom and going to a playground that makes a man brave enough to do what he's got to do. _

_I held the ring in one hand and the bundle of flowers I'd picked from _abuela's_ garden in the other. Mami had tried to talk me out of doing this and my sister had thought it was the cutest thing she had ever heard of, but neither of them could understand. Only my brother had understood, and he had been the one to get me a ring._

_My heart beat uncontrollably within my chest, and when I spotted her hanging from the monkey bars, it beat even faster. As always, she fell off once she got to the third bar, and all of her friends laughed. She laughed too, got to her feet, dusted off the pleated skirt of her uniform, and ran for the slides._

_Her curly black hair trailed behind her, wild and with a life of its own. Her cheeks were bright red and her mouth was open as she panted for breath. Her worn Mary Jane shoes kicked up dirt as she skidded to a halt, looked at me, and smiled, changing direction so that she could come my way._

_Be brave, I told myself, and got to my knees._

"Hey Robbie, come play over here!"_ she said excitedly, grabbing my arm and pulling me to my feet. She stood a good three inches taller than me, but I didn't care: I had to do this._

"W-w-wait a second!"_ I stuttered nervously, and got back on my knees. _"D-d-Danny, will you--?"

"_Wiiii, miraaaa!!!" _

_Ay Dios..._

_Angela's voice carried from the other side of the playground, and soon enough, everybody was staring. Danny just looked down at me with a curious look on her sweat-covered face, her hands held behind her back as she waited for me to continue. I opened my mouth to get the words out, but they got lodged in my throat, and suddenly, I couldn't speak. The girls were squealing and singing those annoying love-teasing-songs, and the guys were making gagging noises._

"_Roberto's proposing!!" the mean Angela exclaimed, and a chorus of "Eeeew"'s followed. It was common knowledge that Danny didn't know much Spanish, and this wouldn't be the first time that this specific blonde made fun of her because of it._

"_Aw shut your fucking pie hole, Angela!" My jaw dropped as Danny turned around and pointed a finger at the girl, continuing her string of reprimanding curses. It seemed that she'd understood the teasing tone and gotten fed up. They couldn't understand her English either, but everyone knew enough curse words to know that she was angry. "You're annoying as shit—I'm getting frickin' proposed to here, and you're running your mouth like a--!"_

"_Miss Cruz!" We all gasped in unison as the teacher, Mrs. Rodriguez, marched over to us, her cheeks red with anger and her dyed scarlet hair frizzy from the humidity. Danny's eyes widened and she lowered her head in shame. "Come with me to the principal's office!" she snapped in Spanish, grabbing onto Danny's forearm and dragging her away. Our classmates burst into laughter and Danny's face started to redden even more than before as she followed with her head lowered._

"_M-m-Miss!" I exclaimed, running after them. The teacher whorled around with an annoyed expression on her face, and for a moment, I remembered exactly why she scared me so much. With the memory of a ruler snapping against my arms, I took a deep breath. "It wasn't her fault!"_

"_There is no excuse for foul language in this school," she reminded him. "I can understand accidents, but when it's as intentional as what Miss Cruz was saying, I have no choice but to go to the principal." Before she could turn around again, I did something I didn't think I was even capable of doing._

"_Fucking shit!" I yelled. Mrs. Rodriguez froze in her tracks. Hurrying up before my fear caught up with me, I continued. "Fuck mom! Ass wipe! Shit cakes--!"_

"_Roberto, stop that this instant!"_

"_Motherfucking dog--!" I clamped my mouth shut the moment she grabbed my arm with her free hand and jerked me forward. I looked over at Danny as the teacher started to march us away from the playground. A huge grin lit her face, and then it happened._

_She leaned over and kissed my cheek._

_Turning a furious red, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the gift I'd been meaning to give her, and finished saying what I'd been wanting to say for the two months since I'd met her._

"_Danny, will you--!"_

"_Wake up, Danny!"_

The first thing that struck me was the cold. After that was the fact that I couldn't move my fingers, and when I opened my eyes, I was looking at a small TV screen built into the back of a blue leather chair. Rather than panic, I took a moment to think.

Oh, right.

I was on a plane to Mutant High.

"Danny, Danny! You've gotta see this!"

I groaned and sat up. My neck felt sore from having rested at a strange angle, and when I looked to see what I'd been laying on, I saw Orangey. He looked at me out of the corner of his eye and when I caught him looking, he quickly turned away. Whilst rubbing my sore neck, I smiled carefully at him and shifted away a bit. He hadn't seemed too uncomfortable with the fact that I'd slept on him for the past—I stopped to check my watch—two hours, and suddenly I felt even guiltier that I couldn't remember his name.

"Uh... mornin'," I greeted.

"Morning," he said back, and fit a pair of headphones over his ears to listen to the movie. I wanted to see what movie he was watching, but then the voice that woke me up spoke again.

"Danny!" the voice insisted. The back of my chair was rocking with the sole purpose of getting my attention, so with much protest from my tired muscles, I turned around to meet the excited face of Bobby Drake.

"Yes, Bobby?"

"Were you sleeping?"

"Well—"

"Because we're on the news, and you _have_ to see it!" He reached forward and changed the channel with the controls on the armrest. "Well, technically it's not _us_, it's just Jean and Scott, but they've got some footage from—there!"

I didn't recognize the news channel, but I pulled on my headphones anyway to listen. A perfectly groomed brunette with a Dolly Parton hairstyle was speaking into a microphone, and behind her, two men were hanging from a lamppost by their jacket hoods.

"...where local teen mutants, Miss Jean Grey and Mister Scott Summers, were able to neutralize the burglars and get the hostages out safely..."

"See, I knew we all should've gone on the X-Jet!" Bobby whined, cutting off whatever the reporter was going to say before the channel went to commercial break. "It's no fair that they got to go with the Professor early while we had to take the connecting flights on these hot planes!"

"Remember your manners, Drake," Logan snapped, shoving the energetic teenager back into his seat. I bit my lip to suppress a laugh at his annoyance and turned towards Orangey so that Logan wouldn't see my face. He had a small grin on his face, but before I could say anything to him, something clicked in my head.

"_Hot_ planes?" I repeated, taking off my seatbelt. I got on my knees on the chair and leaned over so that I could see Bobby more clearly. Cannonball (or Sam) was fast asleep in the window seat, his mouth hanging open slightly. The small bottle of complimentary water in his hand was frozen solid, and his hair was stiff with frost. I raised a brow and looked at Bobby expectantly, and surely enough, he looked like the epitome of innocence under my stare.

"Whaaaat...?" he said casually. I held out my hand for inspection. "I don't get it."

"My fingers are _blue_, Bobby," I stated meaningfully. He shrugged, but didn't meet my eyes.

"Well, that's a shame..."

Logan growled.

"Fine!" he said in surrender, throwing up his hands. "But when you guys start sweating, don't come crying to me!"

In the couple of seconds that it took for me to get comfortable again, the air became noticeably warmer, or at the very least, above freezing. I smiled contentedly and wrapped my jacket tighter around myself, settling down to sleep a bit more. I heard somebody shuffling in the row behind us, but I ignored it and instead focused on the dream I'd had.

The dream had been a flashback from back in Kindergarten when Robby had proposed in the playground, then got demerits for defending me with his cussing. Distractedly I reached up to the silver chain hanging from my neck and felt for the ring dangling from it, passing my fingertips softly over the deep blue stone and small star engravings. I wondered if I'd had the dream because it was something he'd dreamed of or if it was a memory that I'd taken from him. We'd been close friends ever since that incident, staying in and out of contact between moves, breakups and hookups, so it could be considered a significant event.

I made a mental note to call him once I'd settled down at the Institute.

Sam inhaled as if to sneeze, and in the blink of an eye, I was knocked against the chair in front of me. My forehead collided with the TV screen and my seat belt cut into my stomach, jerking me back like a rubber band.

There was a split second when I didn't realize what had happened, but it ended when some of the passengers started screaming, and then the pain kicked in. "Aw shit," I muttered, groaning as I dropped my head into the palm of my hand. I undid my seatbelt and held an arm against my abdomen, hoping to somehow ease the pain.

"Cannonball, what the hell happened?" Logan demanded.

"Dude…" Bobby groaned, and even through the pounding in my head, I could sense that he was feeling nauseous. "Get off!"

"I'm sorry!" Cannonball whispered, obviously embarrassed.

"Come _on_, man," Ray murmured, and I felt a hurried hand on my shoulder. "You okay?"

I moaned quietly and nodded. "What the hell happened?"

"Cannonball sneezed," he answered. To this, I lifted my head and looked at him disbelievingly.

"He _sneezed_?" I repeated.

"The seatbelt stopped him from shooting out of the plane, but… yeah." I looked in the direction he was signaling to, and my jaw dropped. Sam's seat had been completely ripped out of the floor, the back was reclined much farther than it was meant to, and now the whole set rested on top of the seat that was behind Bobby. Sam himself had been thrown over the back of Bobby's chair, and in an attempt to get off, he ended up falling onto the teenager's lap.

"Oh, come on!"

"I'm sorry!" he repeated, and hurriedly got to his feet.

I couldn't help but stare, even as nearby passengers got up and yelled for the captain and stewardesses. Nobody got out of their seats except for those directly behind the incident, but even so, the tension in the air was making my head pound. One of the baggage compartments suddenly opened, and several dark-colored suitcases cascaded out and onto the aisles.

Mr. Logan sighed tiredly. "You kids stay together," he ordered as he got to his feet. "I'll take care of this. And somebody get the Cannonball a handkerchief before he breaks the plane." I watched him make his way to the control room, completely ignoring the stares and questions people were throwing at him.

I turned to Sam. "So, _that's_ why they call you Cannonball?" He nodded mutely, but his cheeks started to flush. I grinned. "Well, then… God bless you, Cannonball."

* * *

**19:30**

**Xavier Institute**

Ever since my family had firmly established itself in PR, I'd had a dream of the next time I would move. I was certain that it would be on my own terms, but in the dream, I was accepted into some prestigious university like Harvard or Oxford, or a really big one like University of Florida or Duke. In that dream, I'd arrive in my own car filled with boxes, pull up to my dorm building, become fast friends with some girl who had just arrived as well, and then we'd start bringing our stuff into the building together. We'd just happen to be roommates, and then everything else would carry out its course.

I wouldn't have imagined at the beginning of the school year that I'd be transferring only a couple of months before graduation, much less to a mutant-training institution.

Actually, I _never_ would've thought that I'd be going to an institution at all, much less after all that had happened over the years.

Shaking away the memories, I stared wide-eyed as Scott drove the X-Van up to the Institute's entrance, pulling to a stop in front of a glass entrance. Even through the windows and tall doors, the grand staircase and artwork on the elegant walls could be seen perfectly, and I began to get the feeling that I was in over my head.

I truly believed this when I stepped out of the car.

Several things happened at once: first, Scott reminded Orangey and Bobby to help with the luggage. Next, something exploded several feet in front of me, and a black creature leaped out of the smoke. For a wild moment I was reminded of a Pokemon, but then the thing (shaped very loosely after a human with a tail) yelled and jumped on me, reaching out to grab my shoulders with weirdly shaped hands. Using me as impulse, the creature back flipped onto the X-Van.

"Run!" it yelled, and just as there was another explosion of smoke, it disappeared.

"What did he do to her now?" Scott muttered, obviously annoyed. I stood frozen, and Bobby looked expectantly at me. He came in front of me and waved a hand, grinning.

"Hey, guys," he said excitedly, "I think she's gonna pass out!"

"Shut up, Bobby!" Scott snapped, shoving him away from me. "Don't worry Danny, that was just Kurt."

"Kurt?" I repeated, coming back to earth. "As in, a _student_ here?"

"Yep," he replied. "You'll get used to him. He's actually a pretty cool dude."

"A really _energetic_ guy, you mean." I looked down and saw that my hands were twitching from the aftershocks of his very open aura. "He seemed like a nice guy, but what was he so afraid of?"

"KURT!!!"

The shriek came from well inside the mansion, but we heard it very clearly. Scott seemed to brace himself as a petite brunette in a red T-shirt and denim Capri pants came running down the stairs, a determined look on her face. Rather than feel relieved that I had finally spotted another girl, I felt worried because of her expression: A mutant that pissed off _had_ to be dangerous.

"Forget this, man-- I'm out of here," Bobby stated, and pointed at his feet. A stream of ice promptly formed beneath him and shot upwards, carrying him with it to the second floor. Orangey and Cannonball quickly followed suit, only they simply grabbed the boxes they'd been handed and hurried inside. Just as I was going to follow, the girl spotted us and came in our direction.

"Scott, have you seen Kurt?" she demanded angrily, walking through the door. I stared in disbelief as my mind tried to register that she had not, in fact, opened the door, but gone straight through it. "He used up all of my conditioner, again!"

"Well, actually--"

He was interrupted by another "poof" sound, this one from a balcony on the second floor. We all looked up and I caught a glimpse of yellow eyes before the culprit let out a cry and disappeared again. A growl escaped the angered girl.

"That elf is _so_ gonna get it! Kurt, get down here!" she yelled, making a break back inside. She, of course, didn't open the door this time, either. On top of feeling pretty invisible, I also felt somewhat intimidated: who was to stop her from sneaking into someone's room at night and getting revenge?

"So… freaked out yet?"

I turned to Scott and took a moment to really look at him. The sun was almost completely hidden behind the horizon, and yet he still wore those red sunglasses. Something gave me the feeling that they held a great significance to him, but it didn't seem my place to ask. Out of everyone I'd met so far, he seemed to be the one who was trying his hardest to understand me, and yet, he was one of the ones who'd said the least (Cannonball not included). I smiled a genuine smile at him and made sure my thanks were projected, but then I struck my poker face.

"This, freak _me _out?" I grinned and shook my head. "This is nothing compared to living with my family."


	5. Just A Dream

**Author's Note:**

Hey, readers!!  
Now, seeing as most of us are writers here, we all know that the greatest pleasure of writing is the writing itself... closely followed by reviews. No reviews for the last chapter, and I know this story isn't too popular, but I also know that it's read, so I would love, love, love, LOVE it if you left a review when you finished reading. I type these up in my free time (which isn't much, considering I work a full-time job, still go to high school, and barely manage to keep a social life), but I type them up with a lot of love!  
So, be kind, review... And if there are any requests, let me know!  
Here there's a bit of Kurt and Ray, but next chapter it really gets started, because I'm bringing the reason I kept watching the show--the Brotherhood! Haha, can't wait! So review, and I'll have it out this week. Otherwise, I just might make another disappearance... Not, I couldn't do that...  
XOXO

"Just A Dream" by Carrie Underwood

_I can't even breathe...._  
_It's like I'm lookin' from a distance, standin' in the background_  
_Everybody's sayin', he's not comin' home now_  
_This can't be happenin' to me, this is just a dream..._

_Hot skin, warm breaths, hotter lips…_

_Darkness, dark skin, humid air, darkness, I'm on fire…!_

_Someone's saying my name, but for some reason, I can't hear it over the sound of my alarm clock and somebody softly shaking my shoulder…_

_What...?_

"Andrea…"

"Is she, like, dead?"

"Andrea, I need you to focus on my voice and come back."

The beige roof of the car faded away, and for a moment, I saw a pair of green eyes haloed by red hair staring down at me. I blinked, and the car roof filled my vision again, only lighter this time. I looked out the heavily tinted window, but the car was still hidden in the shade. Where was the light coming from?

"Andrea, focus."

"Try calling her Danielle."

"Danielle? Danielle, focus."

Where on earth were those voices coming from? And who the hell was Danielle? I settled into the fire again and smiled, enjoying the pleasant warmth that he gave me.

"Is Danny awake?"

I froze.

Danny, Danielle, Andrea…**Andrea-Daniele**. That girl.

As if a bucket of ice water had been thrown over my head, I awoke with a start and jolted into a sitting position. For some reason my eyes were already open, and very, very dry. I blinked at my foggy vision, and quickly my eyes started to sting and water. Vaguely I realized that what had just happened wasn't real, but I was too distracted by the harshness of reality to try and figure out why.

"She's awake now," Jean said with more relief than there should have been in her voice. I bent over and groaned, rocking my body back and forth.

"Ugh, my eyes burn," I hissed, holding my palms against my eyes.

"Good morning, Danny," the Professor said, his voice promptly followed by the almost-silent whirring of his electric wheelchair. "How are you feeling?"

The Professor: Professor Xavier, head of the Institute, mentor, telepath, kind of like me, but not really.

Jean: another telepath chick.

Me: Andrea-Danielle.

Why did my name seem so foreign while all of their names felt so familiar?

"…Disoriented," I admitted.

"Well, that is to be expected, considering how deep of a trance you were in," he said, and I felt a soft bump as he came to the side of my bed.

My bed? Where the hell was I, and what were they all doing there?

I pulled my hands away and looked around. The walls were a neutral beige, a perfect combination with the hardwood floors and wooden furniture. Several boxes were piled up against the wall, boxes my mother had sent in the mail, I remembered. As I looked around, the memories started to come back: we'd arrived last night after a day of connecting flights and angry fellow passengers, and after a small run-in with a certain "Kurt" and his angry girlfriend, Scott had taken me straight to my room, shown me the bathrooms, and left me to sleep. I hadn't unpacked, explored or even showered, and had simply collapsed on the bed.

Then I'd had that weird dream that wasn't a dream or a flashback, more of a…Well, more of a very realistic, erotic experience, which didn't make sense, seeing as the person I'd dreamt with wasn't present. I looked up and saw that everyone was staring at me as I came to this conclusion. Only one word could be used to describe the situation.

Awkward.

"Um… trance?" I repeated, eager to change my train of thought. He nodded.

"It would seem that you can enter the consciousness of people you have created a bond with," he explained. "I tried to tap into your mind to see what was going on, but your consciousness was completely overruled. If I'm not mistaken, you made several bonds the other night?"

"Yeah."

"Do you remember their names?"

_Cristina, Andrew, Robert, Jordan and Frances…_

"Apparently better than my own," I answered. When nobody said anything, I assumed that I was to elaborate. "I couldn't remember my name when I woke up."

"Do you know which connection you tapped into?" the Professor pressed. I couldn't help but shake my head: any which one of them could've been having an erotic experience, none of them were virgins… Well, maybe Robert still was, but I couldn't be sure.

"The images were very vague," I explained carefully. "They were mostly… sensations. It was only when I started to wake up that I realized they were in a car."

"They were driving?"

"…No…" I trailed off, and looked meaningfully at Jean. Her hair looked perfect and her outfit, a yellow long-sleeve and jeans, gave me the impression that she was going out today. I couldn't blame her, it was Sunday. Her eyes widened as she registered what I was trying to tell her and her cheeks turned a very light shade of pink.

"Um, Professor, maybe we should let Danielle get dressed and have something to eat before we start interrogating her," Jean suggested quickly. I sent her my thanks and looked innocently at the Professor. He nodded in agreement, folding his hands in his lap as he seemed to think about it.

"Yes, Jean, you're right. My apologies, Danielle," he said, and started to roll back towards the door. "Jean, Kitty." I finally noticed that the brunette from last night (the angry one) was standing by the door with crossed arms, a curious look on her face. I smiled and waved shortly.

"'Morning," I greeted. She smiled back.

"Good morning!" Wow, she had a perky voice. "We'll, like, see you down at breakfast, okay?"

"Alright."

With a last smile, she walked through the wall while Jean and the Professor exited the traditional way, through the door. I sighed, and with only the slightest amount of disgust, realized that I was still wearing the same clothes I'd traveled with. I probably smelled quite ripe as well…

"Breakfast is in ten."

Scott smiled as he walked past my door, and I couldn't help but smile back. He seemed like a nice guy, and something about him made me feel safe. What it was exactly, I couldn't explain; it was just a feeling I got.

"See you there."

**7:34 AM**

**Second Floor, Xavier Institute**

How anyone could dislike water was beyond me.

In the bathroom, I'd found a basket filled with wonderfully scented soap, shampoo, conditioner, a wash cloth and even a generic bath robe. All of the liquids had been packed into plastic bottles, and I couldn't explain why I'd gotten more of a home-made feeling than a generic, bought-a-giant-container-at-a-department-store-and-then-filled-a-whole-bunch-of-little-bottles-with-it feeling. There had been a small, "Welcome to the family" card attached, with a very elegant signature beneath it. I couldn't make out much more than an "O", but figured I'd ask the Professor at breakfast so I'd know who to thank.

Now hot water cascaded out of the shower head with amazing pressure, and as I stuck my head under the scalding stream, I couldn't help but sigh in pleasure: this was heaven. I wasn't sore and my head didn't hurt, but the relief that washed over me gave me the impression that I had just fought a battle single-handedly and been delivered to Heaven's Gates.

Talk about exaggerating, huh?

I turned off the water and reached for my bathrobe on the towel rack. Just as I'd wrapped it around myself and completely stepped out of the shower, with a strange, overwhelming sucking sound, it happened.

_"Washing away the evidence, baby?"_

_I smiled and turned around. There was no curtain on the shower anymore (we'd gone a bit crazy) and I'd just turned off the water, so I was certain that he noticed the droplets of water dripping down my body. For a moment I marveled at how easy it had been to break down his walls, get past his so-called "morals", but as I watched him and the adoring look in his eyes, I realized I didn't care: he was the one, morals and society be damned._

_"No, bebe," I answered, and plucked a towel off the rack. "Es que me dio calor."_

_He grinned knowingly. "That's no surprise," he said, and then added, almost as an after thought, "I hope you're not in too much--"_

_"Estoy bien," I assured him quickly; I didn't want to let him know of the pain._

_"You sure?"_

_"Yeah."_

_There was a short pause, and just as I felt it couldn't get more uncomfortable, it did. "You know," he began, "She's gonna start calling soon, so--"_

_"Look, babe," I said, cutting him off, "I know you feel bad about hurting her, but--"_

_"I don't."_

_I stopped. "What?"_

_"I don't feel bad because she's never going to find out," he stated, and the intense look in his eyes made me shiver. "Nobody is going to find out."_

_There was another short silence. "...Do you mean it?" I asked quietly. He nodded, and I couldn't stop the smile from breaking across my face._

_"You okay with that?" he asked._

_"Yes!" I nearly screamed, and launched myself at him. Our bodies were, of course, hyper-aware of each other, and before I knew it, the towel had been abandoned and we'd succumbed to sweet temptation once again on his bathroom floor..._

Cold tiles.

Cold air.

Cold reality.

No shower could wash away the crawling sensation on my skin, the dirty feeling that I felt ran in my very blood and made me want to vomit. The bile rose in my mouth and I lurched for the toilet, but all I could do was dry-heave and clench my eyes shut against the pressure.

This episode had been a flashback. It had felt exactly like the other one not even an hour before, and had it not been for one simple fact, it would have been impossible to tell the difference. Had it not been for the fact that I just happened to remember this specific day from my own experience and recognized the couple, I would have sworn the episode was just like the one this morning. No, this morning the girl had been having sex with her new boyfriend while I had been sleeping, and somehow, I'd tapped into the experience; but according to this vision, it hadn't been the first time they'd done it.

This flashback had been a very vivid memory of the first time that Andrew had slept with Frances. On our ten-month anniversary, of course. How did I know? Because the necklace he had given me that night was hanging around her neck in the vision, and I had very dramatically tossed that necklace into the bottom of my suitcase while packing, so it couldn't possibly be a new memory. There had been a certain relief in the vision from this morning that contrasted the underlying tension in the one just now, and a feeling in my gut told me I was the reason why.

The psychotic girlfriend was finally gone.

This time I actually did vomit into the porcelain bowl, but I couldn't guess what my stomach had managed to dispel. Rather than figure it out, I flushed the toilet and left that mystery unsolved. My knees shook as I stood up, but I gripped onto the counter and refused to collapse again: I had never collapsed before, and I wasn't going to make a habit of it. Tears threatened to spill as betrayal's knife dug deep, but I grit my teeth and pushed the feelings away; I wasn't going to make a habit out of crying over him, either. A couple of splashes of cold water and an extensive tooth-brushing later, I stepped into the hallway with a despicably fake smile on my face and hurried to my room.

A vanity stood close to the entrance of my room, and after throwing my dirty clothes into a corner and locking the door, I braced my hands against it and stared into the mirror. My face looked the same as it always did and none of the inner turmoil showed, save for the eyes: not only were they moist from the bathroom incident, but the irises were glowing golden at the edges of the irises. I blinked and they stopped shining, but I swore there was the slightest hint of golden in the brown that hadn't been there before. To keep from panicking, I took a deep breath and uttered something of a personal mantra:

"This, too, shall pass, and if it doesn't, it happens for a reason."

Deep down went the betrayal.

"This, too, shall pass, and if it doesn't, it happens for a reason."

Into the air went the rage.

"This, too, shall--"

A knock came at the door. Not bothering to move anything but my arm, I reached over and opened the door to reveal Orangey. The freshness in his aura seemed to immediately wash away the ill feelings, and despite the nervousness I could detect on him, I felt more renewed than by the mantra. He'd had something planned to say, but the moment he saw me, it stopped in his throat.

Whatever the reason behind his strange behavior, I had a feeling it wasn't centered on my eyes, so I immediately relaxed and smiled cheerfully to avoid an awkward silence. "Morning," I greeted.

"Morning," he greeted back, quickly snapping out of it. "Um, breakfast is over."

This was surprising. "Seriously? What time is it?"

"Nine thirty."

I couldn't help but stare. "Are you serious?" I asked incredulously.

"Yeah, the Professor sent me to check up on you."

"Crap!" I hissed, and rushed for the closet. It was a walk-in, and even if all of my clothes fit in one box and the closet was much too big for me, I'd been assured that I'd be getting roommates soon enough to share it with. The door closed behind me and, in record timing, I pulled on a white camisole, a brown vest and a pair of torn jeans. At the last moment I remembered it wouldn't be appropriate to wander around barefoot, and slipped on a pair of worn tennis shoes.

Once I'd finished, I came out of the closet and was surprised to see that Orangey was still standing in the entrance to my room, fingers stuck into his two front pockets. I pretended not to notice his eyes run up and down me and smiled as I followed him into the hallway. Just before closing the door, I grabbed my small messenger bag and slung it over my shoulder.

"Well, it's your first day here at the Institute, so the Professor asked me to show you around," he explained, moving quickly towards… well, I actually had no idea where we were going, in all honesty. I'd been exhausted last night and hadn't been able to fully appreciate the aesthetics of the Institute (or remember how to get from the entrance to my room), but I took full advantage now of the opportunity to admire the statues and architecture.

"Thanks," I said absentmindedly, distracted by a weirdly-shaped marble bust.

There was a familiar "poof" sound and I walked straight into a black cloud. "Good morning, X-Man, and welcome to--!" was all I heard before colliding with a firm, but furry person, and in a confusion of limbs, smoke, and exclamations, I found myself staring up at the ceiling with somebody thrown across my stomach.

"--Xavier's Institute for Gifted Children," he finished with a sigh. "Morning, Ray."

"Smooth," Ray responded. I looked at him with wide eyes, but all he did was arch a brow in amusement. Somehow, this had to be normal for them, right? The mini-Houdini pulled himself up and offered me a hand.

"Sorry about that, I need to vatch vere I'm porting."

I accepted the extended hand and took a look at the teen as I stood up. On any other occasion, some guy literally popping out of nowhere would have freaked me out, but the calm from him and Orangey (aka Ray) in regards to the "porting" made it hard to. He had a thin, lithe build and shaggy blue-black hair, but what caught my attention the most were his eyes: they were open and kind, something that was hard to find in society nowadays. His clothes were normal enough, a navy button-up T-shirt and jeans, and while he waited for me to respond, he nervously placed a baseball cap on his head.

He was worried I wouldn't like him. Again, just a feeling.

"No worries, I'm easily distracted," I said, nodding at the bust. "George Washington here got my attention. But thanks for the warm welcome…?"

"Kurt. Kurt Vagner," he answered, smiling. The German accent was more of an undertone, which led me to believe he'd been here for at least a year, if not longer.

"Danielle. Andrea-Danielle Cruz," I reciprocated, holding out my hand to shake.

"That's a pretty long name…"

I laughed. "Danny for short," I said, and then turned towards Orangey. "This poor guy's stuck as my tour guide today." The moment the words left my mouth, something spiked in the atmosphere. I whorled around, but nobody was in the hallway except for us.

Strange...

"Really?" Kurt said, genuine surprise in his voice.

"Yeah," Ray muttered hesitantly.

"I thought Kitty vould be showing her around."

"Well, he asked me."

"Okay, okay," Kurt said in surrender; it didn't take a telepath to sense the defensiveness rising in Ray's voice. "Vell, anyvays, are you ready to go? Bobby and Cannonball are already in the garage." I looked between them questioningly, and Ray quickly stepped in.

"Kurt's gonna take us downtown. If you want--"

"Hey, I have an idea!" Kurt suddenly exclaimed. "How about ve show you around Bayville? Come on, it'll be fun," he promised.

"That's what I was gonna--"

"Come on, Danny! Please!"

His energy was contagious and impossible to resist, so without further hesitation, I took his offered arm and followed him down the hall, a huge smile on my face.

"Come on, Ray!" I grabbed his wrist and pulled him along after us, not a clue as to what was going to happen later on.

Maybe if I'd known then, I'd have stayed passed out on the bathroom floor for a couple more hours.

REVIEW, pleaaaase!


	6. Brotherhood

Author's Note:

Okay, I know it's annoying to hear it all the time, but come on, not a single review? I know you guys can do better than that! 2 chapters in a week? I'm on a roll, give me some props, haha!

Anyways, here's chapter 6! The title's gonna change soon, any suggestions, please?

Onwards! I'll have a pic of her on my profile up soon, but not until I get at least... 2 reviews, okay?

XOXOXO

~Bianka

* * *

**6:27 PM**

**Downtown Bayville**

What is it with boys and rock music?

"Come on, Kurt!!" I pleaded, grabbing his arm and attempting to pull him away. He'd been drooling over the same display in the CD store window for a full minute, and already Ray, Bobby and Sam had moved on. I had been the only one deluded enough to think that Kurt's moment would pass, and had decided to wait for him.

"But… it's so… beautiful…!" he said, sighing in admiration. "I didn't know they were releasing another album!" I groaned and, miraculously, managed to detach him from the window.

"We'll come back before we leave, okay?" I lied.

"Okay," he agreed reluctantly, his soul still glued to the glass. I tried to suppress the guilt and convinced myself that the situation was nothing like telling a child that Santa Claus was real. Arms linked together, we followed the direction I'd seen the rest of the guys go.

The mall was cold, but I'd loved it the moment I'd walked in. Almost the whole ceiling was made of glass and there were fountains everywhere, giving it a very refreshing feel despite the throngs of civilians (predominantly teenagers, of course). All of the palms looked real, and as I passed by one bush, a bird even shot out of it. I laughed and watched the large raven fly up to the second floor, its beady yellow eyes bringing back memories.

Memories of being the local witch.

"Hey there, cutie!"

The boy hissing in my ear brought me out of my memories. I stopped in my tracks and looked around, but nobody was close enough to have spoken to me. "What's wrong?" Kurt asked when he noticed we'd stopped. I shook my head.

"Nothing, I just thought I'd heard something," I said dismissively. Giving him a fake smile, I continued to pull him along.

"So, how old are you?" he asked conversationally.

"Seventeen, almost eighteen. You?"

"Eighteen."

"Cool. And what's your special power?"

He looked at me with a curious expression. "You don't know yet?"

"Y'know, I've heard the elf can be clingy."

I stopped and snapped my head to the side, but once again, nobody was around. "Danny?" This time there was a hint of worry in his voice. I scanned the crowds for anybody looking in my direction, but the only one I could see with his eyes on me was Kurt. After a couple more seconds, I reluctantly kept walking. "Danny?" he repeated.

"It's nothing," I said quickly, but even I could tell that my smile was less convincing this time. He raised an eyebrow doubtfully.

"Really? Try me."

Before I could consider it, I saw one of the guys waving at us over the crowd. "There they are!" I exclaimed, and releasing his arm, took off in that direction. I lost sight of them in the multitude, but pushed my way through anyways, hoping they would still be there when I got to the other side. Somebody called out my name and I stopped; hadn't Kurt been right behind me?

"Oops, I'm sorry!"

That was the only warning before the stranger bumped into me. I tripped over my feet trying to regain my balance, but he wrapped a hand around my arm and jerked me up straight. There was a strong gust of wind and for a moment the ground seemed to have been pulled out from under me. Even if only a second or two later my feet stuck onto firm ground, I felt extremely dizzy. The floor seemed to rock and I gripped onto the person's arms until the world decided to stop trying to make me fall. "You should really watch where you're going, you don't know what kinds of freaks show up in this town."

"Yeah," I muttered absently as I regained myself, and then looked up at him. The nineteen-year-old had silver-white hair and pale skin, but his sneaky platinum eyes were what caught my attention. Despite how much they reminded me of a fox, I couldn't help but find them… well, enticing. Then I realized he was holding me way too close to himself, and with a nervous chuckle, I put a hand on his chest and pushed away. "And sorry, by the way."

"Oh don't worry, I needed to talk to you anyways," he said, waving away my apology. I didn't understand at first, but then my jaw dropped as I took in the towering cement wall that was the back of the mall and the desolate employee parking lot that we now stood in. I looked at him and backed away, trying to silence the sound of my heart pounding in my ears and mentally preparing to defend myself if he came any closer.

"What the hell just happened?" I demanded. He rolled his eyes.

"Geez, you're a mutant, aren't you?" he exclaimed. "You should be a bit more used to weird, Andrea." Yeah, sure, I'd found out that I wasn't necessarily a human a couple of days ago, but to have the fact thrown in my face so casually wasn't something I was used to. Biting back my surprise, I clenched my fists and gave him a warning look.

"How do you know what I am?" I snapped. "Or my name?"

"Well duh, you're hanging out with the X-Freaks." This time I saw him move a split second before I felt a tap on my shoulder. "We have to keep tabs on the competition, y'know. Your name just happened to pop up, Andrea."

"Stop that!" He moved out of the way of my annoyed slap. "And it's Danielle to you. What do you want?" My words came out much cooler than I'd expected, especially considering how out of my element I was. It didn't take a genius to figure out that he was a mutant, but the only mutants I'd knowingly met went to the Institute. He, apparently, was a rival.

"Not too bright, are you?" I growled in response to this, but he held up his hands in a peaceful gesture. "Calm down for a second, wildcat. I'm here to extend an offer."

I glared at him through narrowed eyes. "An offer?" I repeated, then wanted to punch myself when it didn't come out as menacing as I'd intended. He grinned and rushed to my side, faster than I could catch, of course, and slung an arm over my shoulder.

"Yes, an offer. You see, our employer's been watching you, and we don't think that you and the X-Geeks are a good fit," he stated, shrugging. "It happens, so we're here to offer you a place with us."

I ducked under his arm and put some comfortable distance between us. "Who's 'us'?"

As if on cue, several voices reached us, and three teenage boys rounded the corner of the building. "Pietro, what's going on?" demanded the leader. "This better be good." He had shaggy brown hair and wore an open brown sleeveless thrown over a white T-shirt with torn jeans, but the first thing I noticed about him was that his emotions spiked. What that meant exactly, I couldn't tell, but his aura wasn't constant.

Temperamental, maybe?

His eyes fell on me. "Who's this?" he asked, jabbing a thumb in my direction.

Pietro was back at my side in a flash and, after wrapping an arm around my shoulder again, waved a hand at the three boys. "This is the Brotherhood: Lance, Toad, and Fred. Guys, this is the girl Magneto was telling us about," he said, a message I couldn't understand hidden in his words. All eyes turned on me at that second. The leader, Lance, looked doubtful, but he crossed his arms and looked me over. The guy next to him, Toad, if I wasn't mistaken, had a pale-green complexion and stood hunched, his bulging yellow eyes curious. The largest of everyone present, Fred, stood behind them two, a tall boy with a buzzed blond Mohawk and a huge stomach held back by worn overalls. They were a curious bunch, but something was off about the situation.

Lance seemed to think so, too, and scoffed. "Come on Pietro, you can't be serious," he reasoned. "She's with the X-Men."

"Exactly," I stated, deciding to speak up. I lifted Pietro's arm off and moved until I was between him and the group. "I don't know what it is you guys do, but I'm just here to figure out how to deal with this whole psychic thing. Xavier offered me that, so I'm gonna stick with him, thanks."

"Another psychic?" Toad exclaimed, and stumbled back. "Don't you think we're good enough with Wanda?"

"Yeah, except Wanda doesn't read minds," Pietro insisted. "Come on, think about it! She's perfect!"

"Except she's already with us."

The "poof" sound that had resulted in nothing but confusion since last night brought me relief, especially when Kurt dropped a hand on my shoulder. The sound of pounding footsteps quickly followed, and coming from the other side of the mall, I saw Bobby, Ray and Sam running towards us. Pietro immediately looked irritated, and they all moved into defensive positions.

"You okay?" Kurt asked, and I nodded.

"Yeah, we were just--"

"Yeah, we were just talking, _Nightcrawler_, so if you don't mind, we have some business to discuss," Pietro said in annoyance. Something snapped around my waist and jerked me forward, setting me down behind the Brotherhood.

"Hey, what the--?" The words stuck at a strange ringing sound in my ears. I winced and shook my head to alleviate it, but all it did was reduce the noise to an almost-silent buzzing. I looked up and saw that the rest of the guys had arrived, Kurt and Bobby in the center. Lance, who I just happened to be standing behind, flexed his fingers and then clenched his fists.

"Looks like we have a fight on our hands, guys," he said, the joy that he got out of that fact apparent in everything from his tone to the excited grin on his face. I stared, unable to understand why he didn't seem to just want, but _need_ this fight like I needed to run when I felt overwhelmed. The familiar feeling of forgetting myself crept up, and for a split second, I felt him:

_This wasn't about the X-Men, and this wasn't about getting the girl to join us. My whole body vibrated with energy just begging to be released, and no sooner had the energy built up than I felt it rushing down my arms. I extended them out to my sides, grit my teeth, and holding onto a single thread of control, focused everything forward, toward the blue—_

I blinked. Only a foot or two behind him, my arms and body mirrored his stance perfectly. Before I could question why, a single thought came forward:

He was going to hurt them.

"Stop!" I yelled, grabbing onto his arm. He was too far gone though, eyes rolled to the back of his head and arms rigid. I felt the ground begin to shake, and without any further hesitation, I shoved past him and stood in front of Kurt and Bobby. "Lance, stop!"

I felt it overcoming me before I heard the sucking sound, and going only on instinct, I planted my feet firmly on the ground and closed my eyes. I wasn't fully aware of what I was doing as I clenched my fists and focused my eyes on his worn sneakers: all I knew was that I needed to do this, I needed to—

It happened in three blinks.

One: Kurt and Bobby tried to pull me out of the way.

Two: I didn't move. Lance let out a yell and the ground began to crack, the fault coming straight in our direction. Simultaneously, my fists swung out on their own accord, a typical block had it been a physical fight.

Three: The ground beneath the Brotherhood waved like a sheet of fabric being shaken. They were on the ground before I blinked, but when I opened my eyes again, all I could see of them was from the shoulder up.

Silence for one God-forsaken second.

"Holy—"

"Yo, get us out of here!"

Blood dripped down from my outstretched hands, and when I opened my fist, I could see that I had done it to myself. Four crescent-moon shaped cuts were testimony to how powerful this episode had been. Then again, episode? As the reality began to set in, I felt my hands start shaking and my heart rate increasing.

This wasn't normal, even on my standards: I hadn't just tapped into his mind, I'd tapped into his _power_.

Too much.

Too fast.

So I did what I always did in these situations:

I ran.


	7. Lost

**Author's Note:**

No reviews. To say the least, I'm disheartened... Anyways, next chapter. I'll put up the next chapter the day I get a review, alright?

And the picture of the character will go up then, too.

The title and excerpt is from Michael Buble's song, "Lost". It's foreshadowing and only slightly reflects what is going on now, okay?

* * *

"Lost" by Michael Buble

_'Cause you are not alone_  
_ I'm always there with you_  
_ And we'll get lost together_  
_ Until the light comes pouring through_  
_ It's when you feel like you're done_  
_ And the darkness has won_  
_ Babe, you're not lost_

Maybe it wasn't a smart move.

Maybe it was cowardly.

Maybe I was wrong to think I could handle this.

Then again, maybe I'm not smart, strong or brave.

I couldn't be sure how long I'd been running, but by the time I stopped, the sun had been down for a while. Although I'd been running for what could have possibly been hours, my heart rate wasn't that high at all; I hadn't even broken a sweat. Everything from the incident in the mall to now was a blur, and as I looked around, I got a sinking feeling in my stomach: I didn't even know where I was.

God would have it that I ended up at the end of a pier staring out at the ocean. I turned around and saw a bayside city with a cliff overlooking the ocean. Maybe it was Bayville, maybe it wasn't, but one thing was for sure: this wasn't home. To top it all off, there was that annoying ringing noise in my ears, and because the sun had set, the cold was rolling in, which left me lost, cold, and hungry.

I looked back to the sea again and a lump rose in my throat. It had been a crazy couple of days what with the party, mutant-discovery and complete 180 degree change of lifestyle, but it hadn't had time to set in until now. I was, in the truest sense of the word, alone, and had it not been for a muffled song playing from my pocket, I would have most likely started crying.

_If I go crazy, then will you still call me Superman?_

_If I'm alive and well, will you be there holding my hand?_

_I'll keep you by my side with—_

"Hello?" I answered the phone without looking at the caller ID, and as my mother's worried voice come out of the speaker, for a moment, I felt those tears threaten to spill. "_Mami_?"

"Andrea-Danielle Cruz! Where the hell are you?" she demanded. "Professor Xavier called me to tell me that you ran off—" She paused. "—Five hours ago! What the hell are you thinking?"

"_Mami_, I—"

"I've been worried sick! Nobody knows where you are, and your father says that you haven't contacted him since you arrived! Who the hell do you think you are, worrying us all like this?"

"_Mami_, I don't know what happened," I muttered, surprised that she didn't interrupt me this time. "I was talking to these guys and things got out of hand, so I just—"

"You ran off with some random guy?" she exclaimed incredulously.

"No, no Mami, it was a group of mutants, and I accidentally tapped into their powers," I said quickly, the words pouring out faster than I thought she could understand. "One of them, Lance, tried to attack my—" I stopped. What were the guys to me? Friends? Housemates? "—he tried to hurt the guys, and then I knew how to make the ground shake, and Pietro's really fast, and I guess that's how I ended up over—"

"Andrea, Andrea, slow down," she said firmly, the sharp edge on her tone finally softening. I took a deep breath: even I knew I wasn't making sense. "You can't make the... earth shake?" I groaned: why did I even bother trying to make her understand the technicalities of this whole psychic/mutant issue? "And so what if that boy is fast, what does that have to do with you? _Chiquita,_ are you sure you aren't imagining these things? Just because you're a mutant doesn't mean you're some sort of super-power magnet--"

"Look, mom," I said, cutting her off, "I've gotta go now, I'm gonna call the Professor. I'll talk to you later, okay? I love you." I didn't wait for her to answer before I hung up and pulled the battery out of the phone. Heaving a sigh, I adjusted the bag on my shoulder and made my way into town.

* * *

**Five Hours and Fifteen Minutes Earlier**

**Cerebro, Xavier Institute:**

"Professor, wouldn't this qualify as spying?" Jean Grey stood behind her mentor as he placed the helmet upon his head, a serious look on his face. A holographic screen opened up in front of them with a map of Bayville. Immediately it zoomed onto downtown, and after another silent command, onto the mall.

"We've hardly had time to interact with the girl," the Professor reasoned, and holding his chin thoughtfully, observed the screen. "It's only fair that we make sure she's safe." Although technically Cerebro could locate any one person in the world (sans Magneto, of course), it was currently set to identify three types: X-Men (marked by small encircled red X's), general mutants (simple red dots), and Danielle (an encircled purple X). At that moment, the three dots that were Ray, Sam and Bobby were moving around a skate shop, and Danielle and Kurt were stationary in front of a CD store. There were a handful of mutants scattered around the mall, but they all seemed to be minding their own business.

"When you say 'safe', do you mean from everyone else, or for everyone else?" Jean asked, trying not to show too much of her anxiety. There was a short silence when the Professor didn't answer, but eventually he sighed and leaned back in his chair.

"Jean, we need to help this girl," he said firmly. "She has no understanding of her power, and it's our job to help her figure them out." _That's not an answer_ was what she wanted to say, but she held her tongue and quietly observed the team.

A couple of minutes passed when neither said anything and the only sound in Cerebro was a soft, constant beeping that pulsed with Danielle's marker. All of the other markers were solid, but hers seemed to pulse and blink. Staring at the locators, a question formed in her head and came out of her mouth without her consent. "Professor, if you can locate anyone with Cerebro, why don't you use it to locate Rogue?"

This time there wasn't a thoughtful silence before he answered, "She left because she needed a break to think things through. We'd be invading her privacy if we tried to find out what she was doing."

Before she could say anything in response, Danielle's marker disappeared. "Professor—!"

"I saw it, Jean," he said, and furrowed his brows as she reappeared behind the mall, a red dot right next to hers. Both were blinking for a moment, but then the red one stopped. "Identification, Cerebro."

"Pietro Maximoff, Charles."

"Call the team, Jean," the Professor ordered immediately, his tone urgent. "We don't know what Quicksilver is up to."

* * *

**Present**

Being lost can be terrifying.

Back home, the few times that I'd wandered alone at night, I'd at least known which areas to stay away from. Here I had absolutely no idea, and on more than one occasion I felt as if I were being watched. Finally I reached a quaint suburban neighborhood on the edge of town. There was a small, open park with a couple of trees, benches and a playground, so feeling a sense of safety from it, I gravitated in that direction.

This place was nothing like the park where Robert had proposed to me in, but even so, I thought back on that day and smiled. I considered calling him and even took the phone and battery out of my pocket, but as I sat down on the bench and tried to command my hands to do the necessary actions, I found that I couldn't.

Would he really want to talk to a mutant, especially one that had hurt him?

I dropped my head into my hands and closed my eyes; that ringing in my ears seemed to increase, but no matter how I shook my head, it didn't ease up. It had started back at the mall and had gone away while I was running, but now it was back full force. If it didn't stop by the time I got home, I'd have to—

Where was home, anyways?

"Hey, y'alright?"

The voice caught me by surprise, especially when I looked up and found a teenager my age. Like me, she had very strong facial features, and despite the guarded concern in her eyes, she had a generally strange, dark aura. To be honest, I was surprised that someone who projected such warning energies would bother going out of their way to make sure a stranger was alright, so I figured that, on some level, it had to be a façade. She wouldn't dare pry, that much I could tell, and judging by the firm set in her jaw and the generally wary feel that I got from her, she would leave at the slightest indication that she wasn't welcome.

I considered my words, and after several seconds of not knowing what to say, simply shook my head. She stood awkwardly as she thought about how to react to this, and settled with taking a seat on the far side of the bench. We didn't touch, but the comfort reached across the empty space.

"So, what _are_ ya doin' out here? It's pretty late," she said awkwardly. I shrugged.

"Ran away."

"From what?"

"Everything, nothing... myself, I guess," I muttered. Why I was opening up to this girl, I couldn't be sure, but as awkward as it felt, something was telling me to keep talking. "I just moved here, so I needed to get away."

She let out a short breath and shook her head. "Trust me, I hear ya."

Trust me?

"Yeah... it's just confusing," I continued. "I never would've hurt those guys before, and I stuck them in the ground without a second thought. I don't know where I'm going, and now I don't even know who I am anymore."

"Like there are too many people in your head tryin' to tell ya what to do."

"Exactly." I sensed the regret in her the moment she said that, but I let it slide. "The funniest thing is that this guy offered me a way out."

"Way out?"

"I'm a... freak, witch, psychic, whatever you want to call it," I admitted, not ready to use the M-Word yet. "Sometimes it gets hard to tell the difference between my feelings and somebody else's, so this man just came along and offered to help me figure it out. It should be a dream-come-true, but I don't think anyone can make this go away, not when I'm a danger to everyone around me."

Neither of us said anything for a couple of seconds until, to my surprise, she broke the silence. "Some people are just like that."

"Like what?"

"They don't care if you're dangerous or not. They just want to help even if there's nothin' in it for them." She sat with her arms braced against her knees and pulled off a pair of leather gloves to reveal pale, delicate hands. "My family's like that, y'know. Even with the whole public mutant exposure, we stuck together."

I stared at her; was she serious? "You're a mutant, too?"

She turned to me, a surprised look on her face that mirrored my own. "Well, yeah. Aren't you one?"

I couldn't help but laugh lightly and shake my head. "Just found out a couple of days ago. How long have you known?"

"Almost two years."

I laughed again and ran a hand through my hair. "Geez, never met a mutant before this week, and now I'm meeting them by the hour."

"Really?" Her tone became considerably more serious. "Who?"

"Well, besides a couple from the Institute, there was Pietro, Lance, and two others, but I can't really remember their names. You know them?"

She chuckled darkly. "Oh I know them alright," she muttered, and got to her feet. "Come on, let's get outta here." I stood up as well, and finally took a look at her appearance. She had short brown hair pulled into a ponytail under a baseball cap and a duffel bag thrown over her shoulder. She wore a pair of torn black pants and a black turtleneck with black boots; slightly gothic, I realized, and mentally slapped myself. Appearances came second in my mind by nature, and now wasn't the time to start stereotyping.

"Where?" I asked, genuinely curious. Where did she want to go, and why on earth would she want to take me with her?

"Y'ran away from Xavier's Institute, right?" Slightly taken aback, I mutely nodded. "Well, been there, done that, and lemme tell ya, that's the best place for ya right now. This mutant thing is no party, and the Professor really knows what he's doing." For a moment we just looked at each other, and silently we reached an understanding. This wasn't like every other bond I'd made before, this was something different, _human_: she understood, and wanted to help.

A green car drove up on the road next to us and pulled to a stop. The window rolled down and a man in uniform gave her a short wave. She waved back, and turned to me. "Well, that's my ride. You coming?"

Again, I was confused by her casualness. "Where to?"

She smiled softly, and held out a hand. "Home. The Institute. It's time I went back, and it'd be great if ya came, too."

I looked at her extended hand, a question I couldn't bring myself to voice begging to be answered. Why was this happening? Was it coincidence that, no matter what happened or where I went, everything pointed me back to the Institute? I let out the breath I'd been holding and took her hand for a moment.

"I'm Danny."

She pulled her hand away almost instantly, but a smile spread across her dark lips as she fit her gloves back on.

"Rogue."

* * *

**REVIEW!!**


	8. Secrets and Notes

**Author's Note:**

I'm a woman of my word, and the moment I saw that one review from Elsa, I got to work on this chapter.

So, you guys know what to do! Read on, and review!

Picture link is up on my profile!

* * *

**6:45 AM**

**Xavier Institute**

"Danger Room" should have been the first indication of what was to come.

Mr. Logan had taken full advantage of the fact that I enjoyed running and set up a cat-and-mouse obstacle course, Kurt being the cat and me the mouse. They had given me the gist of the session seconds before starting, and it was fairly simple: don't get caught or hit. What exactly that meant, I wasn't all that sure, but as I made my way down a ramp, I started to get an idea.

A red energy beam shot down two feet ahead, disappeared, and reappeared right next to me, grazing my shoulder. I ran faster and listened this time for the tell-tale sound that came a second before the beam made contact, and was able to dodge the next one. I didn't get so lucky when I rounded a corner and another caught me full in the chest. I fell back onto the ground with a winding thud, my head hitting the floor painfully. I waited a moment and got to my feet. Yes, the ground felt uneasy at first, but I wasn't going to give in.

I was tired of being a cowardly wimp.

"Danielle, are you--?"

"Fine!" I yelled, cutting Scott off. "Stop going easy on me! Is that the best you've got?" He laughed outright, and surely enough, pushed things up a notch.

A javelin swung out of the wall and I instinctively dove to the floor. It passed an inch over me, and I made a mental note to jump next time. I sprung to my feet and dodged several more of the energy beams Scott was sending in my direction, the pounding in the back of my head begging for attention which I refused to grant it.

"Pick up the pace, Rookie," Mr. Logan warned just as a short steel wall rose out of the ground. A beam blasted just where I would have been had I jumped a second earlier. "The elf is catching up." I vaulted over the wall and had a sudden idea. I grinned as I ran for the next wall, taking my time. "Pick up the pace!" I listened for Kurt and, when he sounded close enough, I scrambled over the wall and ducked.

Scott had set up a rhythm I could catch on to, so when Kurt leaped over the wall, Scott hit him instead. I grasped the opportunity and took off full-speed, getting myself a good head-start.

"Sorry, Kurt!" Scott called. Kurt groaned in response.

Kurt…

_Even as we pulled through the gate, I could see in the distance that somebody was waiting for us in the entrance. As we got closer, I began to recognize the shaggy hair and the slight slouch, but there was something off about him. Rogue got out of the car first, and a shocked look crossed over Kurt's face when he saw her._

"_Rogue?" he exclaimed disbelievingly. She smiled and shrugged a shoulder._

"_I'm home," she said awkwardly. He stared at her and then, without any warning save for a spike in his aura that only I could sense, threw his arms around her. She went stiff for a moment, but soon relaxed and carefully placed her arms around him. "It's good to see ya too, Kurt."_

"_Where've you been all this time?" he asked, barely masking the immense emotion that seeing her caused him. "You haven't called, written--"_

"_I needed t' get away for a li'l bit," she explained, pulling away. "Did y'all get the letter I left?"_

"_Ja, but…"_

"_I'm sorry."_

_He smiled a relieved smile and shook his head. "Don't apologize, all that matters is that you're back for good this time." There was a silent, cautious question in his words, but she nodded in agreement._

"_Yeah, I'm here to stay this time."_

_He smiled, and for the first time since we'd arrived, looked past her. I got out of the car, a sheepish look on my face.  
_

"_Danny?" he said, obviously surprised. "How do you know--?"_

"_We just met. It was a coincidence, but we started talkin' and she convinced me to come back," Rogue interjected. Rather than question how truthful she was being, I decided to stay quiet. "And here we are. Did y'all give my room away yet?"_

"_Uh, vell…" He nodded in my direction, and I immediately flushed. _

"_Everything's still in boxes," I said quickly. "I can move in five min--"_

"_Don't be ridiculous, the room has two beds," she said, waving a hand. "Come on, chances are we both have some lectures waitin' for us."_

And boy, had she been right.

After explaining to the Professor, Mr. Logan and Ororo what had happened and then listening to several discussions about how dangerous it had been to go off on my own, how glad everyone was to see Rogue, and how everything would be further discussed in the morning, I had been sent to bed. Rogue had been held up, so Kurt had been the one to escort me back to my room.

_For the life of me I couldn't figure out what was so different about Kurt._

_Same cheerful attitude, same mop of hair, same walk-- what was it?! If anything, he was considerably tenser than he'd been earlier, but even that wasn't too different from this morning when he'd been worried I wouldn't like him. I took a good look at him, and eventually it clicked._

_He'd been the black (I could now see that he was actually blue) thing jumping out at me the night I'd arrived! Because of my heightened focus on auras, I'd paid hardly any attention to appearances and hadn't even tried figure out why he felt so furry. The matter was almost laughable, but when he caught my eye, I realized it was something that worried him greatly._

_"I know I look--"_

_"Blue's my favorite color, y'know."_

_At his shocked expression, I smiled softly and shrugged. "Psychic, remember? Your appearance could matter less to me, but that blue does wonders for your eyes." We'd stopped walking in the middle of the hall, but once he'd registered my words, he smiled and began walking again._

_"So, you mean I don't... scare you?"_

_I actually laughed out loud at this. "Kurt, all my life, I've been considered a witch. That includes rats, voodoo, demons and very creepy people," I said, and even if I said it with as much casualness as I could muster, I was actually telling him something considerably private. "It takes a lot more than an elf-y appearance to scare me."_

"Rookie, watch where you're running!"

I yelped and tripped over a thin metal wire that sent me rolling straight into the wall. Before I could get up, a pair of fuzzy arms lifted me into the air, and something wrenched at my stomach. I cried out and gripped onto Kurt's suit as everything went dark, and in the blink of an eye, I was back at the starting line in a cloud that smelled like brimstone.

"I win, you lose!" he crowed, and set me onto my feet. "Nightcrawler one, Danny zero!"

"Oh come on, it was my first time!" I whined. "That can hardly count as a point!" He shook a finger in front of my face.

"Uh-uh, no going easy on the Rookie, remember?" he reminded me teasingly. "Now, you up for round two?"

"Last round for today, alright? Then we've gotta get to school!" Scott called. I contemplated this for a moment, then grinned.

"You're on, Kurt!"

* * *

**Several Hours Before**

**Xavier Institute, Library**

"Rogue, let me say again how glad we are that you've decided to come back home," the Professor said warmly once Ororo and Logan exited, rolling his chair closer to where Rogue sat. "You found some of the answers you were looking for, I hope?"

She crossed her arms and leaned back into the love-seat. "Kinda. I found out my real name and where I was born. I also met the doctor who delivered me, but she couldn't tell me much about my birth mother," she answered, disappointment dripping from her every word. "She described her, but it was nothin' clear: brown eyes, black hair, pale skin, pretty, but normal. She left in the middle of the night without signin' any documents, so the doctor never even knew her name."

"I'm... truly sorry," the Professor said, and to Rogue, he sounded sincere enough. "But please be careful, if there were any documents linking you to your birth parents, chances are that Mystique got to them years--"

"I know, Professor," she cut him off, not wanting to hear her adoptive mother's name. "But apparently she had a daughter with her and a man. Maybe if I investigated the high schools in Florida, I could--"

"One step at a time, Rogue," he said, reaching over and placing a hand on her gloved hand. "You've been traveling for a long time, and must be tired. Rest tonight, and we'll figure things out in the morning." At the touch, her eyes darkened.

"There's somethin' else, Professor. Where'd ya find that girl, Danny?"

He furrowed his brows at this. "She's been sending signals to Cerebro ever since we set up the new system months ago, but I couldn't get a clear reading until the other day. She was living on an inactive military base in Puerto Rico. Why?"

"Because she could touch me, and I haven't a clue why."

* * *

**Present**

**Bayville High School**

Funny how the languages, courses, and students change, but the fact that high school's a social hell never does.

"Okay Danny, here's the thing: everyone knows we're mutants, so it won't be long before they figure out that you are, too," Jean said, pulling up to the school. It looked just like a typical high school, but judging by the glares and hostility radiating off of the students in the general direction of the car, I got the impression that we weren't welcome (more than normal, at least). "Some will try to pick fights or get you to use your powers, but you can't let them provoke you, okay?"

"What's the worst that can happen, I understand them too much?" Kurt and Kitty snickered, but I gave Jean a serious look. "Don't worry Jean, I'll be careful."

"Good. I'll be here to pick you guys up at the same time as always," she said, and we all got out of the car. I looked up at the building apprehensively, and Kurt placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

"Don't vorry, just a couple of hours, and it'll all be over."

I gulped. "We're the only mutants here, right?"

"Yup, Lance and the guys all got expelled ages ago," Kitty answered, waving a hand as if it didn't matter. I wondered if Kurt sensed her disappointment as strongly as I did. "C'mon, I'll show you where the office is."

* * *

**Lunchtime **

**Bayville High School**

The bell rang announcing the end of third period European Literature, and to the students, it was like a gun firing at the start of a horse race. I waited for the majority of the crowd to file out before I braved the crowds in the hallways. It took about five minutes to find my locker, and after checking my schedule to see which books I'd need next, I dumped all of my morning books inside and grabbed my Calculus, Physics and Latin rental textbooks. Kitty had hung a mirror on the inside as a "Welcome to Bayville High" gift, and for a moment, I observed myself.

My eyes hadn't returned to their brown color since yesterday, and as students had passed me by and given me weird looks, I knew the color could never pass as normal. I looked down at my dark jeans, white long-sleeve and the padded black vest that Rogue had lent me: I could dress as normal-looking as I wanted, but the evidence was practically written across my face that I could never even pretend to be such a blissful thing.

I slammed the door shut (I'd found out the hard way that it was tough to close) and turned around, only to find a very familiar, unwelcome face inches from mine.

"Aren't you supposed to be expelled, Pietro?" I snapped, shoving past him.

"Oh come on, is that any way to treat a fellow mutant?" he asked, moving in front of me.

I groaned. "Why don't you go with the rest of your gang and try bullying someone your own size for once? Or, in your case, speed?"

I tried to move around him, but he was too fast, of course. "That's exactly why I'm here! I mean, come on, my powers _are_ pretty cool, so I need to find somebody who can keep up; everything just blurs and gets boring after a while--then again, you'd know all about that firsthand, wouldn't you?" I stopped trying to get past him and glared.

"Your point?"

"I'm just saying, you and me, we have an understanding!"

"Yeah, running really fast without breaking a sweat kicks ass. Can I go to lunch now?"

He sighed. "Come on, I practically give you my powers, and this is how you treat me?" I stepped back.

"What do you mean, gave me your powers?" I asked, suddenly too curious to push him away anymore. "You did that on purpose?" He got that same sneaky grin on his face that had led to disaster yesterday and nodded. "How? Why?"

"Let's take a walk, and I'll explain every--"

"Yo, Danny!"

I whorled around and saw Ray and Sam coming in my direction. Even if they were technically interrupting, I was happy to see them and smiled. When I turned back to Pietro, he was gone, and there was something in my pocket. The two were coming with friendly looks on their faces, so I assumed they hadn't seen him. I reached into my back pocket and found a sleek silver lighter with a piece of torn paper wrapped around it. Before they caught up to me, I took a quick look at the note and then crumbled it up. Before I could question why I was being so sneaky, they were next to me and Sam was talking.

"Did you get lost, Danny?" Sam asked, smiling knowingly. His initial shyness had thankfully worn off some, enough that I could roll my eyes at his comment without offending him. I smiled as if they'd caught me in the act.

"I swear, Kurt and Kitty explained it to me almost twenty times, and I _still _can't understand this building...!"

I casually slipped the lighter back into my pocket, but as Sam started talking about ways to remember my way around, Ray caught my eye. There was a wary look behind those unbelievably blue irises, and judging by the determined set of his jaw and the way he looked at the lighter, he had seen more than I'd thought. But why didn't he point it out in front of Sam?

I moved between the two and gripped his hand. Not really knowing how, I sent him three words through the contact, the same words Pietro had left written on the note:

_We'll talk later._

* * *

Review, people!! Thanks ^_^!  



	9. Odd

**Author's Note:**

One review, yay! Sorry for the confusion, her eyes turn gold when her powers are in use, and ever since the mall incident, they've stayed golden and haven't turned brown again.

Anyways, I'm going to put my foot down-- 2 reviews, and I'll get out the next chapter.

Next chapter will show part of Rogue's side-story and where she's been, and it'll also develop the love interest of the story, so review, even if it's one sentence, I'm easily pleased ^_^

Thanks to Elsa, you rock!

* * *

_"That Green Gentlemen (Things Have Changed)"_

_Things are shaping up to be pretty odd._

**Bayville High School**

Ray lasted until fourth period.

Lunch had been fun; it seemed that even if mutants were allowed in school, most students had an aversion to them, so we had an entire corner of the cafeteria to ourselves. Kitty had given me the social run-down of the seniors while Kurt had spent the whole period debating which band was better with Bobby and Sam. Ray, on the other hand, was quiet for the better part of the half-hour, so it was no surprise to me when he ambushed me the moment we were out of earshot.

"So, what'd Quicksilver want?"

Despite the seriousness of his tone, my mind could only register one word in his sentence at that precise moment. "Quicksilver?" I repeated, barely suppressing the giggles. "Are you serious?"

"It's his codename, a mutant thing," he explained impatiently. I covered my mouth to suppress my laughter and nodded, showing that I understood. "So, what did he want?"

"I don't know," I admitted, shrugging. "He just wanted to talk about what happened yesterday."

"Why?"

"How should I know? You guys are the experts on the Brotherhood."

I followed him to our next class, Physics, all the while considering just how much to let him in on. Maybe he would know why Pietro gave me a lighter? The class was boring, as was to be expected, and even if the professor didn't pay much attention to what the students were doing (we'd need to call Flight Control soon with the amount of paper airplanes in the air), I didn't try to talk any more with Ray. He sat next to me and on more than one occasion I caught him looking at me out of the corner of his eye, but I ignored him and stared out the window.

_A lighter...?_

I didn't smoke, and I could tell at a glance that he didn't, either—at least, not frequently enough to want to spend money on a sleek, fancy lighter like the one he'd given me. A memory fought to resurface, but surrounded by as many teenagers as I was, I couldn't focus—the hormones, adolescent anxiety and excitement made it almost impossible to focus on anything, much less on a memory that I was better off forget—

I stopped breathing.

Lighter, fire, **burns...**

"May I be excused?"

The professor barely looked away from the board but I took the wave of his hand as permission enough to leave. I gathered my books and, ignoring the stares of the other students, moved as quickly as _humanly_ possible towards the door. I didn't stop in the hallway and continued to the restroom, scanning the halls for any teachers.

_Scanning?_

_Since when did I know how to scan?_

I dismissed this thought and ducked behind a row of lockers when a security guard rounded a corner. Yeah, this high school had security guards, too. He continued to walk in the opposite direction, his boredom the emotional beacon I had caught on to. The moment he moved into another hallway, I made my way towards the gymnasium.

A class was playing basketball when I went in, but I didn't recognize anybody and continued to the exit. As I'd hoped, the football field was in view, so I jogged towards the bleachers, feeling free to stop being inconspicuous. Nobody was out here this period, so I settled in the shade underneath the benches and got comfortable.

I threw my backpack on the floor against a metal beam and leaned up against it, using it like a cushion. With some slight apprehension, I pulled the lighter out of my pocket and clicked it open. A simple flame came to life, artificial and quaint. I closed it and opened it again, gazing at the tamed fire. I repeated this several times until I felt something warm in my chest, a bubble threatening to burst, and then I just knew. I took a deep breath, opened the lighter, and exhaled.

The flame turned out.

To say the least, it was quite anticlimactic.

Setting my jaw, I opened the lighter again and focused on a single word: grow. Words weren't the key; The flame flicked side-to-side, innocently mocking me and my incompetence. I growled: this was worse than those guys that poked you and then ran out of your reach like children… wait, no, the fire was _exactly_ like that.

In a second, the bubble in my chest burst, and a pleasant warmth spread through my body. I gasped and my eyes widened as I made the connection with the flame: it was a living, breathing element, and once I recognized that, it became an extension of myself. I breathed into the flame and without any effort whatsoever made it grow. It burst to life and lifted away from its base on the lighter and onto my hand. I laughed and held it like a ball above my skin, enjoying the energy it emitted.

This had to be the coolest thing I'd ever done in my life.

"Danny!"

I froze and the flame disappeared from existence; in all honesty, it made me feel pretty sad. I turned and saw Ray running in my direction, an anxious look on his face that didn't fully go away even when he came closer. I got to my feet just as he came under the bleachers, and it was just in time because he nearly collapsed on me from exhaustion. "Ray!" I exclaimed, gripping his shoulders. He grabbed my hands and pulled them off of himself, then looked at them with confusion. "Ray, what's--?"

"Why aren't you burned?" he demanded, looking at the perfectly unharmed skin on my hands. I gulped; how was I going to explain this? "Danny, what happened?!" When I didn't respond, he sighed and shook his head. I realized he still held my hands in his, but he lowered them now and looked me directly in the golden eyes.

"Danny, you're an X-Man now." The words caught me by surprise, but I didn't say anything because despite how paranoid he had been of me less than an hour earlier, all of those feelings had seemingly vanished into thin air. "Being an X-Man means being part of a team. You don't have to trust me yet, but you _can _tell me what's going on."

All I could do was stare at him. "Ray…" His eyes were so blue, so clear, so… _concerned_. For a single self-conscious moment, I wondered if my mutated golden eyes would ever be as enticing as his were by nature. His aura wrapped me in a secure cocoon, letting me know I was safe. I squeezed his hands and took a deep breath. "I don't know what's going on."

"What happened just now, with the fire?" I bit my lip and looked down.

"In Physics, I was trying to figure out why Pietro gave me the lighter," I began, "and I remembered how I'd made that girl's lighter on the beach explode in the PR. I thought maybe the lighter was Pietro's way of showing that he knew how I made it happen, and I decided to test my theory before he spoke to me again."

"And?"

"It worked. I can control fire, somehow. But Pietro said something about 'giving' me his power, and I don't know how I deflected Lance's attack yesterday." I shook my head. "It's just… so **weird**, Ray." Something in him spiked when I said his name, but when I looked up at him again, nothing had changed in his expression.

After a short silence, he said, "I think you should talk to Rogue."

That had _definitely _not been what I expected him to say. "Rogue? Why?"

"Because your power sounds like hers," he said. When I still looked confused, he explained. "When Rogue touches somebody, she absorbs their memories and, with mutants, their powers."

"Absorbs?" I repeated. He nodded. "How does it affect the other person?"

"Depends how long she touches them. Most of the time they're out cold for a couple of minutes, though."

I thought about this for a moment. That would explain her dark aura, at least: anyone with so many persona's in their head would _have_ to have a dark feel to them. But if physical contact knocked out whoever touched her, then why hadn't I felt anything when I touched her hand last night? Although I was pretty sure that touching wasn't the key to my power, it was actually starting to seem like a pretty good idea to talk to my roommate, so I nodded in agreement.

"She's at the Institute right now, but…"

"We'll talk to her after school, if you want."

I smiled despite myself. "We?" As I said it, I became aware of the fact that we were still holding hands; he seemed to notice, too, because we both pulled back at the same time. I crossed my arms awkwardly and bit my lip.

"If you want," he said, shrugging as if it were no big deal. Judging by the hope in his mind's voice, it actually was a bigger deal than he wanted to let on. I smiled again and nodded.

"I would really like that." He looked up in surprise and our eyes met. It wasn't one of those moments where time seems to stop or where you can't breathe; no, at the moment, we reached a silent understanding, and somewhere deep down, I knew that we'd just become friends. For a moment I swore I saw sparks fly in the air, but it had to be my imagination reflecting the butterflies rising in my stomach… I gulped. These weren't the thoughts I needed less than a week after breaking up with my cheating boyfriend.

"I knew you couldn't stay away for long."

I jumped at Pietro's voice in my ear. My hair blew into my face as he whizzed by, and when I cleared it away, Ray was tied to one of the beams holding up the bleachers with an American flag. In any other situation it would have been comical, but in this situation, it was anything but. "Ray?!" I instinctively rushed forward, but then Pietro ran in front of me, a smirk on his face and an envelope in his hand.

"Hey Danny," he said cheerfully. "Think we could talk for a sec?"

He lifted me up faster than I could fight him off and shot out running. When he finally stopped, we were on the roof of the radio controls room where the school broadcast football games. He put me down and I attempted to shove him; to my surprise, he didn't move out of the way, and allowed me to push him by his shoulders.

"What the hell, Pietro?" I exclaimed angrily. "Why'd you do that?"

He put on a mask of innocence. "Why'd I do what?"

I exasperatedly gestured towards where Ray was tied up on the other side of the football field. "Why'd you do that to Ray?!"

"He would've interrupted us," he said simply, shrugging. "And anyways, I wanted to be able to show you these in private."

He opened the large manila envelope and pulled out a photograph for me to see. Even if I wanted to throw him off the side of this small building (he wouldn't get _that_ hurt, right?), my curiosity got the better of me and I gave the photograph a glance. It showed a man with orange-red hair sleked back, dressed in a brown suit with a large, semi-maniacal smile; after a couple seconds' thought, I recognized him. "That's Mr. Pyre," I stated slowly. "He was a substitute for music class a week or two ago. What does he have to do with anything?"

"Mr. Pyre, talented music teacher," Pietro said, making air-quotes around the word "talented", "is better known around these parts as Pyro." He pulled out a second picture of a man in a red-and-orange body suit. Two tanks were attached to his back, hoses leading out of them to his wrists. His hair spiked up like a porcupine's out of a red band wrapped around his head, but the most impressive thing was what was going on with his hands:

Fire was shooting out of his hands and onto the palm trees around him. Tourists ran away with terrified looks on their faces and pillars of smoke rose from several surrounding buildings: chaos. The whole scene seemed strangely familiar, and it only took a moment for it to click. "He's the mutant who set the plaza on fire in San Juan!" I exclaimed. "I saw that on the news the other day! That's Mr. Pyre?!"

"Yup," Pietro confirmed, nodding. "He spent just two days as your substitute, and you were able to imprint on his powers."

"Imprint?"

"Your genetic code reads his and if everything works out right, you can have his powers," he explained, albeit with a hint of boredom in his voice. "That's why he was so touchy-feely: physical contact helps. It's a lot of science-y mumbo jumbo, but this is why you need to join us."

"Really?" I raised an eyebrow and stepped back; I'd gotten caught up in the shock of finding out a teacher of mine was an arsonist mutant, but now I was coming back to reality. He wouldn't provide this information without a price, and I had a feeling it was a price I wouldn't be able to pay. "How do you know all of this, and why should I agree to join you?" I asked cautiously. Here, without any means of defense or escape, he had the upper hand, and I had to be careful.

"To your first question, my father, Magneto, sent him to see if you would imprint his powers," he answered, ticking off one finger. "He's been watching you for a while, and wanted to see if you were strong enough to join him yet. As for your second question, we understand your powers better than the X-Geeks ever could. You could stay with them and get no where, or come with us and go straight to the top. Your choice."

It took a couple of seconds for this to sink in: the whole point of coming to Bayville had been to understand my powers, hadn't it? There wasn't any harm in getting some help from someone who seemed to completely understand the whole issue, right?

Then why did I have such a bad feeling about it?

"Look, I just don't--"

Like he'd done only a couple of minutes before, he picked me up like a newlywed bride and ran. I clenched my eyes shut and opened them once we'd stopped. We were once again under the bleachers, but I didn't see Ray, so I assumed he'd purposefully left me farther from my teammate. He put me down and I straightened my clothes, giving him a wary look.

"Could you _please _not do that so much?" I muttered, pulling off the hair tie I'd held my ponytail up with.

"Sorry, force of habit," he said, not apologetic at all. I rolled my eyes. His words came out faster than normal, most likely because he'd just run. I shook my hair loose and was about to pull it back up when he grabbed my wrists to stop me. "Wait," he said urgently. Confused, I lowered my arms.

"What is--?"

The words were barely out of my mouth when he suddenly leaned forward and kissed me right next to my mouth. I gasped and pulled back, but he had already run off, so it was useless. I stood frozen for a moment, and then felt my face start to heat up.

That had been unexpected.

I groaned and wiped my cheek with the sleeve of my shirt, but of course, it did no good; the kiss had been almost on my lips, so it was hard to push it out of my head so quickly. In the PR, we always greeted with brief kisses on the cheeks; this was completely different. I continued to rub the spot where he'd touched me until I felt a hand on my shoulder.

I screamed involuntarily and whorled around with my fist pulled back, but it was only Ray. I let out a sigh of relief, but then I saw the look on his face. Had he seen? Then again, why did I care?

Who the hell was I kidding?

"Ray, how'd you get out?" I asked, and then saw the flag in his hand. It was singed and smelled like burnt fabric. "Somebody's feeling anti-patriotic. Are you okay?"

"Fine," he answered, and threw the flag into a trash can. "It was the only way to get out."

I didn't really get the point he was trying to make, but shrugged it off. I didn't know what his power was yet, so the comment most likely had something to do with that. "I'm sorry I couldn't help, he just grabbed me--"

"Yeah, I saw. Is he gone?"

I tried to scan for the mutant, but realized it was hard to focus on his constantly shifting personality. I shook my head and gave him an apologetic look. "Can't tell for sure."

"Alright, let's head back to class, then."

We walked back to class in silence, and the whole way, despite all of the information (and unwanted attention) I had just gotten from Pietro, my mind kept going back to the way Ray had said, "We can talk to her after school, if you want."

_"We..."_

I ignored a familiar ringing in my ears and, for a moment, simply enjoyed how it felt to hear the word said with me included.

* * *

**Review...**


	10. Dirty Little Secret

**Author's Note:**

Wow, Chapter 10, guys! Well, down to business... now that we've reached this landmark chapter, with 5 reviews, I need your imput. Do I even continue this, or should I focus my energies on other stories? I have a Twilight one and a Vampire Diaries one (no hating anyone who is anti-Twilight, I have my critiques of it), so just let me know, and I won't be offended. I'm just disheartened. So say it in a review or a message, but let me know, okay?

None of this is in Danielle's POV, but we're bringing in the Acolytes. The story's eventually gonna shift in that direction, okay? Okay.

* * *

**_"Dirty Little Secret" by The All-American Rejects_**

_I'll keep you my dirty little secret_

_Don't tell anyone or you'll be just another regret_

_(Just another regret, I hope that you can keep it)_

_My dirty little secret... who has to know?_

By the time he got to the boarding house, almost everybody had arrived. Toad sat on the front porch steps, a seriously annoyed look crossing his face when he saw Pietro stop two feet away.

"Yo Pietro, what's with everyone crowding up the living room?" he asked, the question almost a whine. "They won't even let me go inside!"

"Magneto's coming," he snapped. Toad's eyes widened and he made a break for the woods.

"I'm outta here!"

Pietro didn't even look after his former comrade and walked into the house. Surely enough, the house was more full than usual and twice as chaotic. He easily dodged a fruit bowl thrown in his direction, but then the bowl was closely followed by a series of butchering knives, and he had to run up the stairs to get away.

"Hey, hey, hey!!" he yelled, catching the last one a foot away from his chest. "Stop trying to kill me for a second, alright?!"

The culprit, Pyro, grinned cheekily from the kitchen entrance and saluted. "Yessir Quicksilver, sir!" he said, his Aussie accent strong and proud. For a moment he stood straight like a soldier awaiting orders, but broke into hysterical laughter only a second later. Pietro groaned and flashed to the living room: he could only handle the mutant's insanity for so long. Colossus stood against a wall, arms crossed and his body completely metal-plated. He looked at Pietro, then went back to staring somberly out the window. He wasn't one for words.

Mere moments after he entered, the trench-coat clad Gambit leaped in from the window and threw himself on the couch. "Did I miss anything?" he asked, folding his arms behind his head and propping his legs on the table. "Boss-man here?"

Pietro sighed. "My father should be here soon," he answered. "We were just at the high school."

"Ah, so he's made himself known, has he?" Gambit pulled a deck of cards out of his pocket and started shuffling them. "Moving things forward a bit quickly, don't you think?"

"She didn't see him. He's doing this creepy stalker-thing until he finds the right time."

"Which will be when, never?"

"Soon."

Gambit immediately sat up straighter at the sound of his employer's voice, but didn't apologize for his comment. Magneto walked in to the living room, helmet hiding his face, as always. He'd abandoned the cape for the occasion, but otherwise, he looked exactly the same as he always did. Gambit smiled to himself and put his deck back in his pocket.

Magneto looked around at his followers, acknowledging their presences with a glance before crossing his arms and demanding reports.

"Pietro?"

"She imprinted on Pyro as planned," Pietro promptly responded. "That Berzerker kid and the blue-furred freak won't leave her alone for two seconds, but she wants answers, so she'll come to us."

"Good. Colossus?"

"The doctor did as I told her, so the Rogue hasn't found her sister yet," he responded, voice devoid of emotion. "I highly doubt anyone will figure out what happened."

"Let's be cautious; she's most likely told the Professor of her findings, so it won't be long before he starts to ask questions. Gambit?"

"Nothing new to report."

There was an uncomfortable silence. Nothing to report? He had to be borderline insane to think Magneto would settle for such an update, especially considering how vital his job was to the mission. Magneto focused on him for several seconds and then nodded.

"John?"

Pyro had silently come to stand by the door, but now he grinned. "Yes?"

"Make contact with the girl. Show her the potential your powers have given her."

If possible, his grin widened. "Yes, sir. Anything else?"

"No. I'll be back in two days to check on your progress."

With that, he left the room. Gambit got to his feet and left with a teasing wave out the front door, closely followed by a laughing Pyro and a silent Colossus. Once they were out, Toad jumped in through the window.

"I don't know about you, but I'm starting to consider joining SHEILD with Lance and Blob," he muttered grumpily, perching himself on the back of an armchair. "At least they don't have to worry about being set on fire by some maniac."

* * *

**Xavier Institute**

**17:18**

Punctuality is something few mutants take seriously, and as Rogue waited at the rendezvous point in the forest surrounding the Institute, she found it to be no surprise that he wasn't an exception.

After seating herself on a log, she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and checked the history. Yeah, if he had called, she would have heard it, but she was feeling anxious. What if something had happened? What if he'd forgotten? What if he'd decided to stop helping her with--?

The snapping of twigs signaled his arrival.

She jumped to her feet and whorled around. The brown-haired, red-eyed Gambit emerged from behind a tree, his customary mischievous smirk plastered on his lips… and what beautiful lips they were. Pushing those thoughts away, Rogue crossed her arms and cleared her throat.

"You're late."

He chuckled and shook his head. "I'm sorry to break it to you, chere, but you're early. We said six o'clock."

"We said five."

"Alright then, my sincerest of apologies." She huffed and rolled her eyes: it was always the same thing. He stuck his staff onto the sling on his back and stepped forward. "I hope that you find yourself well?"

She shrugged noncommittally. "Everythin's pretty much the same. Everyone at the Institute wants to know where I've been the past two months."

"What have you told them?"

She shrugged again. "Nothin', really. I told the Professor about lookin' for my birth parents, but not about everythin' else."

"Good, chere." He reached forward and placed a hand on her hair. "I know you don't like lyin' to them, but we have to. You understand that, right?"

She pulled away from his touch, albeit reluctantly, and sat on a log. "Yeah, I get it," she muttered. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."

He sat down a foot away from her on the log and squeezed her shoulder. When she didn't protest, he took a chance and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close to him. To his surprise, rather than stiffen or pull away, she closed her eyed and rested her head on his shoulder. He was wearing the trench coat, so it was safe for her to be close to him, but even so, she was always hesitant to let anybody get close--physically or emotionally-- which meant he should have stayed quiet. Of course, he didn't.

"Do you want to--?"

"I don't want to talk about it, Remy." He sighed. She bit her lip, immediately regretting brushing him off. "Look, I'm sorry. It's just been a long couple of days, and the way things are lookin', unless I can read Magneto's mind, I'm never gonna find my family."

A short silence passed, and Gambit was the one to finally break it. "Look, chere, maybe we could get some help from one of your--"

"I'm not getting anyone else involved," she stated firmly. "They'd just tell the Professor about it."

"Then maybe--"

He stopped at the sound of approaching footsteps. Before they could completely detach from each other, two teenagers stepped into the small clearing, weird smiles on both of their faces. Weird because Ray never looked nervous and Danny had something that looked like a mix between a grimace and a laugh breaking out on her face. Both stopped upon seeing the two and their expressions went blank, but after a short, shocked silence, Ray was the one who knew how to react.

"What the hell, Rogue?" he exclaimed, looking between her and Gambit. "Why are you talking to this Acolyte?!"

"Back off, Ray," Rogue warned, stepping forward. "It's none of your business!" He balled his fists and kept his eyes trained on the smirking Gambit. Sparks started to form on his fists and his eyes turned a brighter blue, but he didn't attack yet.

"You heard her, Sparky," he mocked. "Back. Off."

"Shut up!" Danny snapped. Strangely enough, her tone was more annoyed than hostile. "You're both being idiots!"

Rogue looked at her roommate. The girl was pretty, that much she had noticed when she'd found her in the park, but this was the first time she saw her in daylight, and it made a considerable difference. While she had looked pale and unkempt with wild black hair and light brown eyes that held a yellow tint, she now had a healthier-looking skin tone, and while her hair was still wild and black, her eyes shined a solid gold. She narrowed her eyes at Rogue, then looked at Gambit. Why Rogue felt as if she was waiting for this girl to spring, she wasn't entirely sure, but when the newbie opened her mouth, she was braced for attack.

Danny grabbed Ray's wrist, and like a blanket being thrown over a fire, his powers calmed down. "Let's go," she said, pulling him around the unlikely pair. "She knows what she's doing." Rogue stared in surprise, but Danny avoided her gaze. For a moment Ray looked like he would protest, but she slid her hand down into his and squeezed it lightly. "Trust me." He tried to read her face, his eyebrows knitting close together as the two seemed to speak without saying anything out loud.

_Why would anyone trust her?_ Rogue thought, but Ray set his jaw and followed without another word. Both Gambit and Rogue looked after the two walking away hand in hand, silent and thrown by the strange turn of events. Finally Gambit let out a breath and laughed.

"Well, that's not something you see every day," he said, crossing his arms. "I always thought of Sparky as more of the stubborn type. Who's the new _chere_?"

"My roommate, Danny," she answered, sitting on the log again. "The Professor and Recruits picked her up in Puerto Rico this week."

"And what does she do?" He sat down next to her again.

"Apparently she's a mini-telepath."

He nodded, but knew there was more to it than Rogue let on. "And…?"

Rogue rolled her eyes. "She can touch me, alright?"

His eyes widened, but then he grinned. "You know, _chere,_ this is quite convenient. Weren't you just saying you need a telepath?"

"We don't need her."

Rogue immediately regretted the bitterness in her words. The kid hadn't done anything to harm Rogue or Remy, but to hear him speak so highly of her so quickly stung. He caught onto it faster than she expected, though, and in the blink of an eye, she was jerked back onto his lap and arms. At first she struggled, but he held her for a couple of seconds, and she reluctantly stilled.

"I thought we were past this stage, _chere_?" he whispered into her ear. His lips grazed her ear lobe through her hair, and she immediately started to push at his arms.

"Stop messing around, Remy!" she snapped. Once she managed to get away, she stepped several feet away, putting some good distance between the two. Despite her panic, her body felt warm, and the tiniest area he'd touched tingled, making her want more of his hands, arms, _lips.._. "It doesn't even take half an inch of skin for me to knock you out!"

"I know that, _chere_," he said calmly, holding up his hands in a peaceful gesture as he got to his feet.

"Then stop messing around!" she exclaimed exasperatedly. "I can't give you want you want!"

"You already know what I want," he stated, stepping forward, "so stop making this into something it isn't." She glared at him warningly, so he stopped moving closer. "_Chere,_ please."

She didn't say a word and walked away. He watched her go with resignation: she was one that you could only push so far without scaring her off. At least she hadn't shut him out completely, that much he could tell, and it was a relief. With a shrug he reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone.

"Hello?"

"Be good boy and tell your daddy dearest I have some information, Pietro."


	11. Keep Away

**Author's Note:**

First of all, thanks for the two reviews I received! They make this COMPLETELY worthwhile, and even if there are criticisms, I truly appreciate them because I want to improve my writing. This chapter is for you two, next one will be out soon, lots of explanations in the next chapter and more Acolyte stuff brought into play. Hope y'all enjoy, and if you don't, write it in a review or message (remember, honesty isn't the same as being rude, okay...?). Just in case, Ray and Wolverine are the characters tagged in this story, but that doesn't mean there's gonna be a love triangle, just in case... not until this point, not between those two as far as I see.

Anyways, on with the chapter!

* * *

**22:34**

**Xavier Institute**

"It's not what it looked like."

The lights had been out for only a couple of seconds before she gave in and spoke. I'd spent the greater part of the day getting up to date in my classes at a desk in the library, and at dinner, Rogue had avoided me like the plague. Now that we were in the same room together without any witnesses, it seemed she felt free to talk. I stared up at the ceiling with my arms crossed behind my head, clearing my thoughts and opening my mind: it seemed the only way I could even begin to understand the complicated girl. She waited for me to speak, and then went on. "He's helping me find my parents."

"Adopted?" I asked, voicing a word projected to me by her mind's voice. Besides the one word, all I could read from her was a buzzing of emotions comparable to radio static, and it made the conversation frustrating. She was hesitant to answer, but muttered a "yes".

"Ray told me a bit about him. Are you sure you can trust him?"

"He understands what it's like," she said quietly, " and he's different now. The Professor wouldn't get it, so that's why--"

"It's fine, Rogue. I won't tell anyone: it's none of my business."

We didn't say anything for a while, but a question was biting at the back of my mind. This girl was so reserved, so hesitant to trust. She trusted the so-called Gambit because he was in the same situation as her, but why would she tell me anything? I honestly didn't understand anything about her family situation, much less how she felt about it. It seemed she was being honest, but at the same time, all I felt was that she was omitting information. Dizziness started to set in, and I wasn't too sure that having her as a roommate was good news if she'd have me so on-edge all of the time.

* * *

Logan grinned at our collective cries of protest. "You heard me, recruits. What I say goes, so get to it."

Dragging our legs through the dewy grass, we did as our tormentor ordered and stood in a straight line along the borders of the forest. The sun hadn't even completely risen yet, but who were we to question our instructor? He'd threatened that if anyone didn't show up they'd be waxing the floors of the mansion-- _all of them--_ and that was how we'd ended up here at the borders of the Institute in training gear, barely suppressing yawns or drooping eyelids_._ "Iceman and Berserker, you two will be team leaders today." Ray sighed lightly under his breath, but squared his shoulders and stepped up next to Logan as Bobby cheerfully walked to the mutant's other side. "Drake, you go first."

"Multiple," he said almost instantly, pointing out the puffy-eyed youth. Jamie raised his brows to his hairline and looked disbelievingly at Bobby.

"Huh? Me?" he asked, still unsure. Bobby nodded, so he shrugged and walked up to him. "Okay, whatever you say…"

"Cannonball," Ray stated. Sam responded by getting up from his sitting position on the ground and joining his friend.

"Nightcrawler," Bobby continued. I looked at the remaining students standing around. This was supposed to be an exercise for the younger class, but to even out our numbers, Kurt had volunteered to join in. There was Sunspot, aka Roberto, a guy I hadn't had much time to talk to, and Amara, a girl who had arrived the day before. We'd been introduced briefly, and she'd explained that she'd been visiting her family in Brazil. Sunspot had the same explanation, but judging by the way the rest of the team reacted to them, they were all old friends. Amara caught my eye, and the brown-skinned, black-haired girl kindly smiled. I half-smiled back; my night had been plagued with nightmares about hospitals and running from the police, so when Bobby had woken me up for an early-morning drill, I hadn't gotten up in the brightest of moods. She seemed nice enough, though, so I made an effort to smile so she didn't think I was upset at her.

"Danny." I jolted with surprise when Ray called my name. For a moment I didn't understand, but Logan cleared his throat, reminding me that they were waiting. I ordered my feet to move, and thankfully, they listened and guided me next to Sam, who gave me an understanding look.

"Sunspot."

"Magma."

Once the teams were set up, we all faced each other and waited for Logan to set the rules. I noticed Sunspot and Ray glaring at each other, not with hostility, but with a considerable sense of rivalry. Kurt grinned mischievously and winked at me, an assurance that he wasn't going to make this easy. I set my jaw and mentally prepared myself. Logan looked between the teams and smiled.

"Like I said before, the game is simple," he began, tossing a softball one-handedly in the air and catching it without looking. "Keep the ball away from the other team. The course is marked off with yellow tape, so if you get out of the area, you're disqualified. If you fall asleep, you're disqualified." He eyed Jamie warningly. "If you destroy the ball, you'll also be disqualified." Both Ray and Sunspot got warning looks this time. "Remember, this is a team exercise, so everyone has to participate. You have five minutes, and the team with the ball when the time is up gets an advantage in the Danger Room later. Are we clear?"

"Yes, Mr. Logan," we all chorused tiredly. He nodded, satisfied, and pulled a stopwatch out of his pocket.

"Alright." Without any warning, he threw the ball into the air and walked away. "Go at it."

Ray and Sunspot were the first ones to dive for the ball. I flinched back and watched with wide eyes as Sunspot's fist turned alight and Ray threw a blast of electricity at him. He'd explained his powers to me yesterday in the library and had given me the run-down on the rest of our teammates' powers as well, but even so, it was one thing to hear about what they could do, and another thing entirely to see them in action. Ray got a hold of the softball and made a break away from the others.

"Jamie!"

Responding to Bobby's orders, Jamie multiplied and sent four of his clones at Ray. They all tackled him to the ground at the same time, and one of them pulled the ball out of his hand. "Got it!" he exclaimed victoriously, and threw it to Bobby.

"Get him!" Ray's voice was muffled from beneath the Jamie-clones, but Amara and I obediently ran after Bobby into the forest. We heard an explosion behind us followed by the sound of a sapling cracking and falling over, a casualty of Ray's escape. Bobby slipped in and out of sight, and when we reached a clearing, he was left in the open. I picked up speed and had his uniform within arm's reach when somebody grabbed my shoulder. The only warning was a twisting in my stomach before Kurt teleported me away.

When I opened my eyes, I was hanging uncomfortably by the hood of my sweatshirt from a branch five feet above the ground.

"Kurt!" I yelled in annoyance. He laughed, and the cloud of strong-smelling smoke that descended announced his departure. Cursing under my breath, I twisted and turned, trying to break loose. The sweatshirt cut painfully into my armpits, so with a growl of frustration, I lifted up my arms and fell out of it to the ground. A pile of leaves was conveniently right underneath me, so my fall was softened, but the leaves and branches made a couple of small cuts on my now-bare arms. I crawled out and listened for movement. I heard footsteps and went in that direction.

Unlike the other students, I didn't have an X-Man uniform yet, so I was chasing the black-and-yellow clad mutants in nothing but a black camisole and black sweatpants. The early-morning chill bit at my skin, but I ignored it and felt a swell of excitement when I saw Roberto running in my direction, a softball loosely held in his hand. I hid behind a tree and, when I heard him close enough, jumped out and snatched the ball away. He cried out angrily and threw a ball of energy at me, but I ducked and ran between the trees as fast as I could.

My heart pounded in my throat and my breaths came in fast pants. A small stitch bit at my side, but I pressed on, fueled entirely by adrenaline and sheer excitement. We had maybe a couple of seconds left, and then--

I slipped on a puddle of ice. I flailed my arms and wildly tried to get my footing again, but Bobby continued to feed the ice slide and kept me slipping toward the yellow tape marking the edge of the course. Something crashed through the trees and caught me full in the chest before I could stumble over, knocking me several feet back and into another body. The person I'd crashed into cried out (Amara, judging by how female the voice sounded), and when we hit the ground, she was pinned underneath me. I tried to get off of her, but Sam was on top off me, his expression confused.

"Danny? I thought you were--"

"Me?" Roberto said teasingly, picking the softball up from where I'd dropped it. "You should look where you shoot yourself, Cannonball."

He ran off then, but none of us got up to pursue him. I was winded and pinned between two people, so I definitely wasn't going to be the hero and press on when I could barely even breathe. Sam scrambled away and I rolled off of Amara, groaning as the effects of Sam's attack began to set in.

"Ugh," I groaned, clutching my chest. "Man, this is _so_ not how I planned to start my morning…"

"I think I'm going to be sick," Amara agreed, sitting up and holding a hand to her mouth. I cautiously moved away in case she was serious.

"I thought you were Sunspot," Sam explained apologetically, holding a hand out to help me to my feet. I took it and leaned onto a tree until I felt I'd regained my balance. Amara held out a hand so that Sam could help her up as well. "I'm sorry, guys."

"Don't worry about it," Amara said, waving a hand. She braced her hands against her knees and took a deep breath. "Alright, let's go--"

"Time's up!" Logan announced over the walkie-talkies he'd given us. We all sighed in defeat and made our way back to the starting point. Everyone was already there, the other team celebrating with cheers and high-fives and Ray bearing with the teasing. Kurt saw me coming and ran over; he'd turned his image-inducer on now, but even if he looked nothing like the three-fingered blue elf that had abducted me, I didn't let myself be fooled.

"Ah Danny, I got you good, ja?" he asked, grinning from ear to ear. I crossed my arms and looked to the side.

"I don't associate with evil people," I stated. He got an expression that was almost a pout. I dropped the act with a chuckle and a shake of my head. "You think you could get me my sweatshirt?"

He scratched the back of his head guiltily. "Um, about that, I don't think I really _remember_…"

We closed the topic with his promise to replace my lost sweatshirt and walked with everybody else back to the mansion. The sun had fully risen, so by the time we got back, everybody else had already woken up. I walked into my room and nodded at Rogue. She was already fully dressed in low-rise black jeans and a sheer long-sleeve over a purple tank-top, and as I pulled my clothes out of my dresser, she started blow-drying her hair. We didn't bother to say anything to each other, especially not in regards to our conversation from last night. After a quick shower and hurriedly getting dressed, I grabbed my backpack and went down to the kitchen for breakfast.

The older students had eaten, but Ray, Amara and Sam were still at the kitchen table. I sat down next to Amara and poured myself a bowl of cereal. While I ate, I listened to Roberto's animated recount of our shameful failure to Jamie, Kurt and Logan, who hadn't been present to witness it. I bit back my embarrassment and forced laughter to be a good sport, but for the most part, I tried to focus on eating. The Professor came into the kitchen and exchanged greetings with several of the students, and when I caught his eye, I smiled.

"Morning," I said.

"Good morning, Danielle," he greeted, coming up next to me. "May I speak to you for a moment?" I nodded and, having already finished the cereal, followed him into the hall.

"We received a phone call early this morning from your mother," he said, moving slowly towards the foyer. "She says that your father wants to meet for dinner later on this evening." I gave the Professor a curious look.

"Really? He's in Bayville?" I asked. He nodded.

"He's working in the financial district. She says that he's unaware that you are living here, but that it is up to you to whether you wish to explain your situation to him," he continued. "Here's the address where he'll be. I can have Scott or Jean drive you there." He handed me a folded white paper with an address written in neat, concise handwriting. While I read it, I noticed my hands were involuntarily shaking, so I quickly stuffed it into my pocket and left my hands there so he wouldn't notice.

"I'd appreciate that. I still don't know my way around town yet," I explained, smiling to hide my nerves. He nodded.

"That's to be expected. If you need anything else, please let me know."

I smiled and adjusted my bag on my shoulder. "Thanks, Professor. I'll see you later." With a wave, I walked out the front door to the garage. Like yesterday, it wasn't necessarily cold, but I'd covered up anyways with a black jacket over a mauve long-sleeve and jeans. When I got to the garage nobody was there yet, so I sat down on a work bench to wait. In the silence, it was inevitable that I'd think about the news the Professor had just given me, so I laid back against the wall, closed my eyes, and thought about my father.

It'd been a month since I'd last spoken to him and two years since I'd seen him in person. We weren't what anybody would call close, and after all that had happened ten years ago, our relationship was casual at best, tense most of the time, and destructive at worst. I'd been attacked in my mother's hometown, and when he'd tried to convince her to move the family back to Miami, she'd refused. His solution to the problem had been to leave in the middle of the night without so much as a word goodbye, and ever since then, my brother had been the only one who made an effort to keep in touch with the traveling business man.

To put how I felt about him looking for me into words would be difficult, but all I did know was that I was dreading seeing him. I knew much better than to say "no" to his invitation right off the bat, and despite how much I genuinely wanted to, I figured the best thing would be to find out what he wanted and get everything over with.

"Ready to go?"

Jean's voice snapped me out of my thoughts and her smile forced me to pull up a façade. It only took a second to push the thoughts of my father to the back of my mind and latch onto Jean's open early-morning passiveness. I yawned and stretched as I stood up from the bench to follow her to her silver SUV. "Wolverine should've considered a more aggressive profession than becoming a teacher," I commented, climbing into the passenger seat. "Like maybe as a torturer or a corrupt cop or something."

She laughed and started the engine of the car. "He woke you guys up for an early-morning session, huh?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yep. Frickin' early-morning session of 'keep away'."

Kitty, Kurt and Rogue all piled into the car then, and Jean drove us out of the Institute. As we were leaving, we passed by the rest of my teammates piling into the X-Van with Logan in the front seat. I shivered, grateful I wasn't in that car at that moment: the resentment toward the teacher would've made me dizzy.

* * *

**Bayville High School**

My favorite class of the day: Photography.

Least favorite class: Physics.

Good thing about Physics today? We had a substitute. A plump middle-aged woman with a 50's style hair cut and a floral print dress, Miss Greene had promptly informed us upon her arrival that she had absolutely no intention whatsoever of giving class, but that wouldn't hesitate to sign us up for detention the moment we decided to start pulling pranks. Once she finished this announcement, she sat behind her desk, pulled on a pair of reading glasses, and began to read a $2 romance novel with an erotic cover.

Now that Roberto and Amara had returned from vacation, I'd found out that they also had this class with Ray and me, so the four of us sat on the counters along the windows for most of the class. "So, Danielle, where are you from?" Amara suddenly asked, cutting across Ray's and Roberto's discussion on the newest features of the X-Van. The two boys stopped talking to listen.

"Here and there, but mostly Puerto Rico," I answered, smiling at the warm friendliness she let off. "It's a great place."

"Do you miss it? I've only been back a day, and I already miss Brazil," she said wistfully. I felt a small knot in my chest, but bit my lip and forced it down: whether it was her nostalgia or mine, I couldn't tell, but it'd be ridiculous to start crying now. "I hear it's beautiful over there."

I looked out the window at the roads, buildings, and groomed trees that bordered them. Everything here was so tame, and if not tamed, so different from what I was used to. Beautiful, maybe, but above all, different. I looked away for a moment and met Ray's eyes, so bright and observing, a blue that I had never seen before. Different, yes… but definitely beautiful. I smiled nervously and turned back to the window before I could begin to blush.

"Yeah, it is beautiful," I agreed, still staring out the window. "Where I lived, no matter where you went, you could see the ocean somehow. The people were loud and they always played the music louder, but it was easy to get used to. Christmas season begins in November, and we can find any reason to party. It was the best, seriously."

"We should throw a party!"

We all turned around to see Bobby there, a detention slip and a post-it in his hand. "But not just any party, a beach party!" he continued, as if it were entirely normal for him to be in this class with us. "That way, the three of you can feel more at home again."

"What are you doing here, man?" Ray asked, crossing his arms. "And what are you talking about? We went to the beach this weekend."

"Yeah, but they didn't!" Bobby insisted, gesturing at Roberto, Amara and me. "I'll talk to Jean and Scott to see what they say. Oh, and you have to go to the office," he added offhandedly to me. "You're leaving early."

"Leaving early?" I repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, apparently your dad's driver is here to pick you up," he explained. Suddenly he remembered something, and an accusing look crossed his face. "Danny, your dad has a _driver_. You were supposed to tell us if you were loaded!"

"But I'm not," I argued, perplexed. "I didn't know he had a driver, either. You sure it wasn't a taxi?"

"He had the whole black suit and funny-looking hat thing going on-- a _chauffeur_," he said, making air-quotes around the word "chauffeur". "Anyways, we'll talk about the party later, you get going. He looked a bit weird, and very impatient."

I shrugged and picked up my backpack from the floor. My dad hiring a driver? Another one of the topics we could talk about at dinner. "Alright, gotcha." Squeezing Ray's arm softly as a good-bye, I jumped down from the counter and waved to the rest of my teammates. "See you guys later." They all waved back (except for Bobby, who'd already begun planning the weekend with Amara), and when I got to the door, I stopped for a moment to check the time on my watch.

Suddenly a very warm, excited feeling like electricity shot through my blood, freezing me for a moment. I felt nervous, excited and scared all at the same time, and it was the most wonderful feeling I could ever imagine. The sucking sound that normally accompanied a connection was absent, but somehow I knew that was what had happened. I was thrown, and couldn't resist looking back to see if the person I'd felt was in the classroom.

All I saw were his electric-blue eyes before the door closed, blocking him from view.

My heart leaped in my chest, and even if the initial intensity had faded, I felt a warm, melting happiness that made the smile on my face painful to suppress. I couldn't explain why I felt so wonderful, why I felt like I was floating when I was really standing on laminated floors. With a sigh that made me feel like I was a preteen again, I made my way to the office with a small jump in my step. A man in uniform stood outside the office door and walked in my direction when I came closer.

"Danielle?" he asked. I stopped a couple of feet away and nodded slowly, running my eyes over his face. The grin on his face was much too wide to be casual or friendly, but I didn't detect any red flags. Although he seemed very familiar, I couldn't place why: it was easier to remember auras, not necessarily faces, and his aura was confusing. "Your father sent me to pick you up early. Shall we get going?" His voice was funny, as if it was an effort to speak the way he was speaking.

"Sure," I answered carefully, watching the way he reacted to my voice. I detected a jolt of excitement from him that shouldn't have been there, but it quickly disappeared behind the flux of his general aura. If I had to use one wordy to describe how his emotions felt to me, it would be noisy: too many things at once to be normal. I tried to follow him from a safe distance but he kept slowing down so that we could walk side-by-side, something that was quite unnerving. I sucked it up and stiffly walked next to him, making sure that we didn't make any physical contact.

Once outside of the school, he led me to a long, black BMW with tinted windows. Yep, this guy definitely worked for my father: he'd never owned anything other than black BMWs.

As I was getting into the car, I noticed a tuft of unique-colored hair sticking out of the back of his hat. He held the door open for me, but I didn't get in, simply looked at him: the question was driving me crazy. "Do I know you?" I asked after several seconds of open staring. The moment I said it, an image of a man in a similar business suit, with that same orange-colored hair spiking straight into the air came into my mind: Mr. Pyre.

Mr. Pyre, as in Pyro, the mutant who'd set the plaza in San Juan on fire.

As in, someone who had been sent to spy on me for Magneto.

He seemed to realize when I recognized him, because his grin grew even wider (if that was possible) and he braced an arm against the side of the car, blocking any exit. "Well, cat's out of the bag, ain't it?" His Australian accent came to life at that point, and he leaned down so that our faces were almost touching. I pushed at him to try to get away, but all he did was laugh that maniacal laugh that was all his own and shove me into the car, slamming the door shut. "We're taking a little joyride to see the wildcat's daddy, Mister Stone!" I dove for the door, but unsurprisingly, it had the child's lock in place.

Panic threatened to set in.

"Let me out of here!" I yelled, banging on the window that separated us two. "Where are you taking me, dammit?!"

"Like I said, to see your dad," he answered, cheerfully starting the car. "Don't worry, you'll be on time for dinner. We're just taking a _liiiiittle _detour first!"

He continued to laugh, but otherwise ignored me and started to drive away from the school. Even if I knew it was pointless, I banged on the back window and desperately tried to project an SOS to anybody attuned enough to understand, hopefully an X-Man who would realize what was happening. I didn't feel any connections made, and the dread crept into my stomach as the car turned a corner and the school was lost from sight.

* * *

Review, lovely readers...

PS= No, Pyro didn't try to kiss her -.-...


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